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THE HEART OF WASHINGTON 



THE 
HEART OF WASHINGTON 



An Intimate Study of the Father of His 

Country from the Personal 

Human Side 



By 

WAYNE WHIPPLE 

Author of " The Story Life of Washington ' 
" The Heart of Lincoln," etc. 




PHILADELPHIA 

GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



THE HEART OF WASHINGTON 

COPYRIGHT. 1916, BY GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY. 
PUBLISHED OCTOBER, 1916 



ETdiz 

■ 17 
.0051 



All rights reserved 
Prin^^ in U. S. A. 

OP 




©CI,A4a6082 



THE PETRIFIED GIANT OF 
AMERICAN HISTORY 

A little boy, on being held up to 
see President Washington, exclaimed: 
"Why, he's only a man!" 

Washington, hearing this, smiled at 
the child and said, "Yes, dear, that is 
all." 

Those who knew George Washing- 
ton loved him very much as Lincoln's 
friends loved him, but Washington did 
not tell funny stories and his closest 
friends stood in aw^e of him. Yet 
Washington loved to laugh — often till 
the tears rolled down his face — once at 
least during his terrible experience at 
Valley Forge. He was fond of prac- 
tical jokes — his cleverest strategic ruses 
5 



THE PEfklFIED GIANT 

were merely huge jests. He cracked 
a joke with General Knox while cross- 
ing the Delaware through that bitter 
Christmas night with the temperature 
below zero. 

He laughed so heartily over a face- 
tious story that he fell back in a help- 
less heap in a rowboat on the Hudson, 
and once at Mount Vernon, he threw 
himself down and rolled on the grass, 
choking in a spasm of merriment. 

And he could weep, too! No great 
general in history was seen to cry so 
much as Washington — wringing his 
immense hands (Lafayette said he 
never saw such large hands on a human 
being) , sobbing in helpless anguish — as 
at the loss of Fort Washington, while 
he was looking across the river through 
a spy-glass, watching the British with 
bayonets stabbing and killing his be- 
loved soldiers. 

6 



THE PETRIFIED GIANT 

He was seen several times in a tower- 
ing rage at the sight of treachery or 
rank injustice. Then, with white face 
and blazing eye, he would call upon 
God for vengeance. But he was a ten- 
der husband and a fond foster father; 
a staunch and forgiving friend; loyal 
and loving in all the relations of life. 

His first biographers, in their fooHsh 
attempts to make their hero appear to 
be more than human — a small prig in- 
stead of the real boy he was, and a 
pompous and coldly self-sufficient man, 
when his "offish" manner was often due 
to shyness — the result was a monimien- 
tal image of the real Washington. 
Through the strange petrifying process 
they used in preserving his memory, 
they made of him the Stone Giant of 
American History. 

So it is as the living, loving. Lincoln- 
like man, with real, warm — sometimes 
7 



THE PETRIFIED GIANT 

too hot — blood in his veins, that "The 
Heart of Washington" deals with the 
Father of his Country, to show him 
worthy of his real place not only "first 
in war" and "first in peace," but also 
"first in the hearts of his countrymen." 




THE 
HEART OF WASHINGTON 

mS FATHER'S HEART 

On the 22nd of February, 1732, a 
little sunny-haired, blue-eyed boy was 
born to Captain Augustine Washing- 
ton and his second wife, who had been 
Mary Ball, ''the belle of Northern Vir- 
ginia." Wakefield was the name of 
their estate, with a garden of honey- 
suckle and sweetbriar, sloping down to 
the broad Potomac. The house was a 
low story-and-a-half structure w^ith a 
steep roof slanting almost to the ground 
behind, and a huge outside chimney at 
each end. 

9 



HEART (fr WASHINGTON 

They named the baby George. 
Lawrence and Augustine, or Austin, 
Captain Washington's sons by his first 
wife, were fourteen and twelve years 
older. They were soon sent "back 
home," as the colonists called England, 
to school, to "finish," as their father be- 
fore them had done, in a boarding- 
school at Appleby, near Whitehaven, 
England. 

This left Mary Washington to bring 
up her own little brood by themselves. 
Next after little George came "Betty," 
then Samuel, John Augustine, and 
Charles followed in quick succession; 
and last of all. Baby Mildred, who died 
in fourteen months. This was George 
Washington's first great sorrow. 

Captain Washington was so called 
because he was a ship master. He 
owned several large plantations and 
was one of an English syndicate known 
as the Principio Company, owners of 
10 



HIS FATHER S HEART 

large iron mines and other interests in 
Virginia, of which he was a kind of gen- 
eral manager. 

The Washingtons were not consid- 
ered among the "F.F.V.'s," or first 
famihes of Virginia. The owners of 
the large estates along the Potomac 
were younger sons of noble families in 
England, and "at home" the Washing- 
tons had belonged only to the minor 
gentry. 

When George was three, his father 
moved from Westmoreland county to 
the Hunting Creek Place, fifty miles up 
the Potomac. There were three babies 
then, George, Betty, and Sam. On 
this sightly eminence (afterwards 
named Mount Vernon) was the home 
of George's early boyhood, where his 
father taught him his first lessons in 
truth-telling, respect for his elders, and 
love of God. It was here that the 
hatchet and cherry-tree incident is sup- 
11 



HEART ffp WASHINGTON 

posed to have occurred; also the grow- 
ing of the cabbages to form the name 



GEORGE WASHINGTON 



to "startle" the little boy, and the good 
father showed him that, as his name 
could not spring up without a guiding 
hand, so the starry universe could not 
have been sown by chance. 

It is known that Captain Washing- 
ton was at home more than usual during 
George's early years and found keen 
satisfaction in his opportunity 

"To rear the tender thought, 

To teach the young idea how to shoot." 

And the man George Washington 
treasured those early lessons all his life, 
taking special pride in his resemblance 
to his father. 

In the spring of 1739, while the fa- 
12 



HIS FATHER'S HEART 

ther was absent, the house at Hunting 
Creek Place took fire from rubbish 
burning in the garden. As the house 
was high on the bluff, the slaves were 
unable to carry water up fast enough 
or in sufficient quantities to put it out. 
Mary Washington wasted no time in 
barren regrets. Ordering a few serv- 
ants to help her get out some valuables 
and the best furniture, she proceeded 
to have the table set and dinner served 
in a near-by building. 

So seven-year-old George had the ex- 
citement of a fire with an accompani- 
ment of wails and prayers from the 
frightened negroes who stood helplessly 
by, wringing their hands. Then an- 
other removal, this time to Ferry Farm 
on the Rappahannock, opposite Fred- 
ericksburg, and nearer Captain Wash- 
ington's iron works. 

Here an ignorant one-eyed convict 
and church sexton, named Grove, kept 
13 



HEART f5F WASHINGTON 

a poor school, in a hut in a worn-out 
field then covered with undergrowth. 
Certain law-breakers in England were 
punished by being sent to Virginia. 
Grove's offense must have been slight 
or the neighborhood would not have 
trusted him in his double capacity. 

The boys called their strange instruc- 
tor "Hobby." He was able to teach 
George veiy little more than his letters, 
but after his small pupil became fa- 
mous, according to Weems (perpetra- 
tor of the cherry-tree story, and similar 
anecdotes which are all called in ques- 
tion in this iconoclastic age) , *'Hobby" 
boasted that " 'twas he who, between his 
knees, had laid the foundation of 
George Washington's greatness." 

At first little George rode to school 
on the same horse with a negro servant, 
then, to his mother's constant alarm. 
Captain Washington gave the boy a 
pony of his own. At this time thrilling 
14 



HIS FATHER'S HEART 

letters were received from Lawrence, 
who had finished school, and had been 
with Admiral Vernon and taken part 
in the attack on Cartagena, near the 
isthmus of Panama. 

Little George, fired with the military 
spirit, became a leader in the daily bat- 
tles fought at school. He chose to 
be captain of the "English" against 
"Frenchmen" or "Spaniards," or of the 
"white men" against "Indians." The 
leader of the opposition was a big boy 
named Bill Bustle. 

With cornstalk guns and gourd 
drums the boys marched and reconnoi- 
tered. The pine undergrowth sur- 
rounding that "field school" lent itself 
best to Indian warfare, and the boys 
fought with bows and arrows. Of 
course their battles wound up in hand- 
to-hand encounters, with much pulling 
of hair and make-believe scalping with 
wooden knives. 

15 



HEART (ff^ WASHINGTON 

There is a story that, when George 
was about ten, their warfare took a 
modern turn, after a heavy snow-fall, 
with white forts and cannon-balls. The 
Bustle bully hit the white leader in the 
eye with a snowball in which he had 
packed a stone. George had to stay at 
home several days while his indignant 
mother poulticed her eldest hopeful's 
black eye. When she urged the lad's 
father to go to school and visit dire 
vengeance on that bad Bustle boy, the 
Captain shook his head: 

"No, it's a boy's quarrel. George 
must learn to fight his own battles." 

The boy needed no urging to do this. 
The first day he went back to school he 
tackled that Bustle, who was four or 
five years older than himself and nearly 
twice as large. Getting the big boy 
down, George pummeled him so vigor- 
ously that the poor fellow roared for 
mercy— "Enough !"— "Enough 1" The 
16 



HIS FATHER^S HEART 

little Washington boy, blinded and 
deafened by the treachery in that snow- 
coated stone, could see and hear noth- 
ing, but was determined to give the mis- 
erable sneak his deserts. It took sev- 
eral larger lads to pull the pale white 
boy off his begging enemy, and young 
Bustle seemed glad to escape with his 
life. 

As a boy, George had the friendship 
of Richard Henry Lee, about his own 
age. To him the Washington boy 
wrote the following letter, it is said, in 
his eleventh year: 

"Dear Dickey: 

"I thank you very much for tHe 
pretty picture book you gave me. Sam 
asked me to show him the pictures, and 
I showed him all the pictures in it, and 
I read to him how the tame elephant 
took care of his master's little boy, and 
put him on his back and would not let 
17 



HEART (ft WASHINGTON 

anybody touch his master's little son. 
I can read three or four pages without 
missing a word. 

"I have a little piece of poetry about 
the picture book you gave me, but I 
mustn't tell who wrote the poetry. 

"G. W.'s compliments to R. H. L., 
And likes his book full well; 
Henceforth will count him his friend. 
And hopes many happy days he may spend. 

"Your good friend, 
"George Washington." 

"Sam," referred to in this letter, was 
George's next younger brother. 

Captain Lawrence Washington, now 
twenty-four, came home from the war 
intending to return to England shortly, 
as an officer in the royal service. But 
he fell in love with Anne Fairfax, of 
Belvoir (pronounced "Beaver"), four 
miles below Hunting Creek Place, 
where the house had burned down three 
18 



HIS FATHER'S HEART 

years before. The marriage was to 
take place in the spring of 1743, when 
Father Augustine Washington was 
seized with a sudden illness called gout 
of the stomach. 

George had been allowed to go on a 
visit to two boy cousins twenty miles 
away. An account of the sudden end 
of his stay is given by Dr. S. Weir 
Mitchell, as though written by Ex- 
President Washington fifty years af- 
terward : 

"We were merry at supper when 
Peter, who was supposed to look after 
me, arrived with the news of my father's 
sudden illness. It was the first of my 
too-many experiences of the ravages 
time brings to all men. I heard the 
news with a kind of awe, but without 
realizing how serious, in many ways, 
was this summons. I rode home be- 
hind Peter and found my mother in a 
state of distraction. She led me to the 
19 



HEART ^F WASHINGTON 

bedside of my father, crying out: *He 
is dying!' The children were around 
him and he was groaning in great pain; 
but he kissed us in turn, and said to me, 
" 'Be good to your mother.' 
"I may say that throughout her life 
I have kept the promise I made him as 
I knelt crying, at his bedside. He died 
that night and I lost my best friend." 



20 



THE MOTHER-HEART 

There was a great change in George's 
prospects when his father died. The 
estates were left largely to the two sons 
of the first wife. Hunting Creek Place 
and most of the mining interests, in fact 
the Uon's share of the father's wealth, 
went to Lawrence according to English 
law and custom. Wakefield, where 
George was born, and other properties 
were willed to Augustine. 

George was to receive, as his portion, 
Ferry Farm, opposite Fredericksburg. 
But Captain Washington stated in his 
will that the property bequeathed to the 
eldest son by his first wife should go to 
George, the eldest by his second "Ven- 
ture," if Lawrence should die childless 
or if he should have an heir who died 
21 



HEART of WASHINGTON 

later. Sam, Jack, Charles, and Betty 
also received land, slaves, and money. 

The young mother was to have and to 
hold the estates of her children in trust 
ten years, until George should become 
of age. 

Mary Washington had sixteen hun- 
dred acres of her own, and received a 
special legacy from her husband, who 
seems to have tried to provide liberally 
for all the family, and as equally as the 
law allowed. 

But the inward change in George's 
outlook was even greater than the out- 
ward, for, boy though he was, he showed 
those qualities of heart which, develop- 
ing, made it possible to become a great 
man. His mother felt keenly the dif- 
ference between Lawrence's condition 
and that of her eldest boy — although 
she was familiar with the legal custom 
when she became Captain Washington's 
second wife. 

22 



THE MOTHER-HEART 

She complained bitterly of her lot as 
a poor widow, and if George had been 
an ordinary lad he would have been 
jealous of his two half-brothers and 
they would doubtless have severed all 
relations with their querulous step- 
mother and half-brothers and sister. 
But neither of these things came to pass 
because of George's modest and manly 
heart. 

The two older sons, being of age, took 
immediate possession of their estates. 
Lawrence married Miss Fairfax, who 
brought him more "gold and lands," 
and he built a new house where the old 
one had burned down at Hunting Creek 
Place, naming it Mount Vernon, for his 
adored friend the English admiral. It 
was through his marriage with a cousin 
of Lord Fairfax that the Lawrence 
Washingtons now came to be consid- 
ered one of the "First Families of Vir- 
ginia." 

23 



HEART py WASHINGTON 

Austin married Anne Aylett, the 
daughter of a wealthy Westmoreland 
planter, who added her good income to 
his, and they went at once to live at 
Wakefield. 

As for George, 

"In one short hour the boy became a man." 

Though only eleven, he was his moth- 
er's stand-by. In spite of her com- 
plaints and comparisons of his lot with 
those of his half-brothers, she failed to 
excite his envy, and he came and went 
between Moimt Vernon and Wakefield 
on the most agreeable terms, both half- 
brothers being very fond of him. 

Of course, George could not go to 
England to school, and his mother com- 
plained that she could not afford even 
to send him to William and Mary Col- 
lege in Virginia. Young as he was, the 
lad had the good sense to accept the lot 
of a younger son, content also because 
24 



THE MOTHER-HEART 

this was his father's will. He began at 
once to "help mother," and planned and 
worked with her for the younger chil- 
dren. He got the best part of his edu- 
cation in the university of adversity. 
He learned much from nature and ob- 
servation. He had no special yearning 
for booklore, so he did not mind not 
being sent to England to school. He 
was willing to accept the quaint dictum 
of the day that **Mother Wit" could do 
more for him than "Mother Country," 
and that young men's morals were "fin- 
ished" in England as well as their man- 
ners. 

As "Hobby's" school was the best 
in the neighborhood of Ferry Farm, 
George began to go about with serv- 
ants, sailors, and transported convicts 
from England. He was now growing 
tall, awkward, a little hollow chested, 
and was developing a large nose and 
big hands and feet. 
25 



HEART of WASHINGTON 

He was passionately fond of horses, 
and a story is told of his breaking a 
vicious sorrel colt of his mother's. He 
mastered the animal, but it fell dead un- 
der him. Washington's adopted son 
relates this circumstance with all the 
grandiloquence of Plutarch's descrip- 
tion of young Alexander the Great mas- 
tering Bucephalus. Just such ridicu- 
lous attempts to make ordinary acts 
"sound" heroic, and more than human, 
have removed the real Washington 
from the love and sympathy of real 
boys and men. 

The half-brothers, seeing George 
running wild, begged his mother to let 
him live with one of them and go to 
school. Though Mary Washington be- 
wailed her inability to send him abroad, 
she was loath to let him go away even a 
few miles and attend school under a 
brother's care. It is a luminous com- 
mentary on George's manly disposition 
26 



THE MOTHER-HEART 

and behavior that he abeady had four 
homes thrown open to him, the occu- 
pants of which all seemed anxious to 
have George stay — at his mother's. 
Mount Vernon, Wakefield, and Belvoir. 

The mother finally yielded and let 
the boy go to Austin's, on account of 
a good school at Oak Grove, four miles 
from Wakefield, kept by a master 
named WiUiams. This was a great 
sacrifice for the whole family, as George 
was kind to the younger children and 
they adored him. There was always a 
special comradeship between him and 
"Sister Betty," who grew to resemble 
him; and Washington's longest letters, 
as commander-in-chief, were addressed 
to "Dear Brother Jack." 

George was allowed to go only on 
condition that he should ride home, a 
distance of about twenty miles, every 
few weeks over Sunday. To him the 
chief attraction at Wakefield was his 
27 



HEART df WASHINGTON 

brother's fine stable of thirty horses. 
He had one horse as his own for the gal- 
lop to and from school. Here he took a 
practical or business course. Young as 
he was, and fond of outdoor sports, he 
studied diligently to make up for lost 
time. A schoolmate told that, while 
all the other boys "were playing at 
bandy and other games, George was be- 
hind the door ciphering." 

The lank, overgrown, round-shoul- 
dered youth was shy with the girls, but 
"hail, fellow, well met" with the boys. 
He excelled in running, climbing, and 
throwing. As at "Hobby's," he was a 
leader here, and sometimes was asked to 
act as umpire in the other boys' quarrels. 

In the school-room George showed a 
fondness for arithmetic, but he cared 
nothing for grammar, and was always 
a poor speller, though he studied hard 
to correct these defects, even after he 
became President of the United States! 
28 



THE MOTHER-HEART 

As he enjoyed any employment which 
kept him out of doors, he was happy in 
carrying the chain for Mr. Williams's 
surveying class, as they measured the 
meadows along Bridge's creek. 

The schoolmaster gave George a 
book called ''The Youth's Companion," 
a collection of recipes, directions, prob- 
lems in surveying, rules of etiquet — 
a sort of memorandum and handy book. 

During the year or more he spent at 
Wakefield, George increased in devo- 
tion to and admiration for Austin, a 
wholesome, sturdy, good-natured sort 
of brother, who took the boy with 
him sometimes on fishing and hunting 
trips. 

But the Widow Washington fretted 
over the long absence of her eldest 
son. So it was decided that George 
should return to Ferry Farm, and go to 
a school in Fredericksburg across the 
river. Here the Rev. Mr. Marye, rec- 
29 



HEART df WASHINGTON 

tor of the Church of England, took a 
few pupils in "Latin, French, and de- 
portment." xVboiit half his time in his 
fifteenth year was spent with his mother, 
going from Fern' Farm to Fredericks- 
burg to school, and the other half at 
Mount Vernon with Brother Lawrence 
and his wife. 

With ^Ir. ^larye George learned a 
little Latin and afterwards expressed 
regret that he had not improved this op- 
portunity of studying French with this 
Huguenot minister. The memorable 
thing he learned with Pastor ]Marye was 
more than a hundred "Rules of Civility 
and Decent Behaviour in Company and 
Conversation." 

Here are several of the rules, as he 
copied them: 

"Keep your Xails clean and Short, 
also your Hands and Teeth Clean yet 
without showing any great Concern for 
them." 

30 



THE MOTHER-HEART 

*'Let your Discourse with Men of 
Business be Short and Comprehensive." 

"Strive not with your Superiors in 
argument, but always Submit your 
Judgment with ^lodesty." 

"Undertake not what you cannot 
Perform but be Careful to keep your 
Promise." 

"Speak not Evil of the absent for it 
is unjust." 

"Let your Recreations be Manfull 
not Sinfull." 

"Labour to keep ahve in your Breast 
that Little Spark of Celestial fire called 
Conscience." 

Wliile going to school at Rector 
Marye's, George made the acquaintance 
of two boys in Fredericksburg named 
Crawford. These sturdy fellows be- 
came well-kno^vn heroes among pio- 
neers and Indian fighters. In them 
young Washington found "foemen 
worthy of his steel" in wrestUng and 
31 



HEART C^ WASHINGTON 

other athletics. With them he devel- 
oped the wonderful grasp of his power- 
ful hand and learned a trick or two that 
he had occasion to use later, with telling 
effect. The companionship of these 
youthful heroes was an excellent substi- 
tute for that of the grooms, convicts, 
and slaves with whom he had lately con- 
sorted. 

There was little for a youth of 
George's practical turn to learn with 
the Huguenot clergyman, for he needed 
strength for the struggles of life, rather 
than the superficial finish of a "gentle- 
man farmer." Honest labor was so 
despised that a young man who had to 
earn his own living was not considered 
a fit associate for the gambling, guz- 
zling, horse-racing, cock-fighting scions 
of the so-called gentry of that re- 
gion. 

His older brothers were anxious to 
have him enter a creditable career, and 
32 



THE MOTHER-HEART 

of course the mother wished to see him 
the equal of his friends and relatives 
in respectability. She had a deep- 
seated dread of poverty, but it was not 
so strong as the mother-fear that some- 
thing might separate her darling boy 
from her. 

Captain Lawrence Washington, who 
had some influence with Admiral Ver- 
non and English generals, proposed to 
use it in George's behalf to secure him 
a place as midshipman in the British 
navy. This might lead him to a good 
"berth," and a lad of such parts could 
prove a hero and climb high on the lad- 
der of life. 

George had heard tales of war, ad- 
venture, and pirates, and had been fired 
with a great desire for *'a life on the 
ocean wave," so when he and Lawrence 
came home to Ferry Farm and told 
Mother Washington of all the financial 
and other benefits the whole family 
33 



HEART df WASHINGTON 

might derive from George's securing a 
good position, she gave her reluctant 
consent. 

The two brothers, surprised and 
elated, hurried back to Mount Vernon 
to make preparations. They vi^ere no 
sooner gone than the poor mother was 
in a frenzy of despair over having 
yielded to their persuasions. She was 
in a dilemma. Too proud to take back 
her promise, she wrote to her brother, 
Joseph Ball, a London lawyer, telling 
him her trouble. Then she waited six 
months, between hope and fear, for 
something to prevent this lifelong sepa- 
ration and save her heart from breaking. 
She hoped to hear from him before they 
received the reply from the British ad- 
miralty. 

At last the long-looked-for letter 

came. Uncle Joseph declared against 

the whole project. They would rob 

and cheat the boy, "and cut and slash 

34 



THE MOTHER-HEART 



and use him like a negro, or rather hke 
a dog." 

It was just the sort of advice the 
widow wanted. She now had a lawyer 
and a man of the world on her side. 
She lost no time in driving to Mount 
Vernon and laying the letter before the 
brothers. 

The old lawyer had assumed that 
George could only get a place before the 
mast as a common sailor, while Law- 
rence had applied for a position as mid- 
shipman and had secured the appoint- 
ment without delay. George had tried 
on his new uniform and his little sea- 
going box was already on board a man- 
of-war then anchored in the Potomac. 
Although Uncle Ball's letter read as 
though he had received his information 
about George's going to sea from an- 
other quarter, the two brothers must 
have suspected the real source — it came 
so opportunely for the mother. But 
35 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

George maintained a respectful silence 
about this. 

When the difference between a com- 
mon sailor-boy and a midshipman, en- 
tered with influential backing, was ex- 
plained, the poor mother lost all her 
pride and reserve. Breaking down, she 
began to sob and beg her son not to 
forsake his forlorn mother in her loneli- 
ness. To Lawrence this was truly ex- 
asperating, for she had given her con- 
sent, and they had gone ahead and made 
all the necessary an^angements. The 
appointment was highly flattering and 
the tall lad's blue-gray eyes had spark- 
led with hope and pride as he tried on 
the bright uniform of the royal navy. 

George thought of it all — and the 
chest on board the great ship of war. 
He thought of his bright hopes — ^his 
only chance for the brave career he 
yearned for so ardently. But provok- 
ing and unreasonable as it all seemed, 
36 



THE MOTHER-HEART 

he could not go away and leave his 
mother weeping like that. With burn- 
ing eyes and a lump in his throat, he re- 
nounced his high hopes to humor her. 
He yielded to his mother's tears— not 
to his uncle's officious, patronizing let- 
ter. 

The little trunk was sent for and re- 
moved from the ship just in time. The 
crisp uniform was folded awaj^ never to 
be worn. The man-of-war sailed down 
the broad river in the halo of a radiant 
future, leaving a disappointed boy chok- 
ing down his sobs, in such a gloom as 
only a life-disappointment can bring to 
an ambitious youth. That was a heroic 
sacrifice — like a martyrdom — to crush 
his own young heart to save his mother's. 



87 



YOUNG STRONG-HEART 

After that bitter self-renunciation 
George was allowed to stay at Mount 
Vernon most of the time. Lawrence 
did all he could to make up the cost of 
"the grand refusal" to the heart-broken 
lad. George had several tutors, and in 
the old yellow pages of his cash account 
may still be seen this quaint entry : 

"To cash pd y® Musick Master 

for my Entrance 3/9" 

This "Musick Master" could not have 
been a private tutor. George never 
showed much ability in music, and cared 
but little for quavers and semi-quavers, 
but there were pretty girls to be seen in 
the neighborhood singing-school. To 
his dying day he was devoted to young 
38 



YOUNG STRONG-HEART 

women, but so bashful that he would 
rather face any number of loaded can- 
non than a "battery of bright eyes." 

The brothers would have been glad to 
share with George and so let him lead 
an idle, "respectable" life, but he al- 
ready possessed a supreme contempt for 
snobbery, and felt, since his father's 
death, a certain manly responsibility as 
the head of his mother's family. He 
was not satisfied to seek his own comfort 
and enjoyment and leave her to struggle 
on alone. 

His brothers passed their time super- 
intending their plantations, and other 
business affairs, but they indulged in the 
sports of the time, fox-hunting, horse- 
racing, drinking and gambling, as the 
landed gentry of England did, but in 
moderation. 

Among the tutors Lawrence had em- 
ployed was a pioneer scout and sur- 
veyor, who taught George that higher 
39 



HEART of WASHINGTON 

branch of mathematics, giving him field 
practice as well as the mechanical draw- 
ing necessary for platting. 

While living at Lawrence's, George 
often rode to Belvoir. Here he met 
Lord Fairfax, a distinguished member 
of court society in England, who had 
banished himself to his vast estates in 
Virginia, because a too-ambitious Eng- 
lish lady had jilted him to marry a duke. 
He was a confirmed woman-hater, and 
George's shyness towards the fair sex 
found in him a ready sympathy. Other 
bonds of fellowship were also found to 
exist between the old nobleman and 
Widow Washington's son. 

William Fairfax, master of Belvoir, 
father of Lawrence Washington's wife, 
was Lord Fairfax's cousin, and man- 
ager of that nobleman's estates; so 
George was welcomed by the Fairfax 
family as a sort of connection by mar- 
riage, and the old Englishman was at- 
40 



YOUNG STRONG-HEART 

tracted by the sturdy manhood of the 
young American. He talked with 
George of life at Oxford, of meeting 
royalty, and of dining with Addison, 
then the greatest literary light in Eng- 
land. 

He guided the youth's reading, and 
the two went out together, often fox- 
hunting and riding home in silence after 
an exciting chase. His lordship, hav- 
ing found too many women along the 
coast, and being an ardent lover of na- 
ture, had sighed "for a lodge in some 
vast wilderness," and built, in the beau- 
tiful Shenandoah valley, a modest 
house which he named Greenway Court. 
This was in the heaii: of his wilderness 
possessions. Here he lived alone, much 
of the time, except for a few faithful 
servants. 

But in spite of his noble friend's 
warnings against women, George's 
heart was too young and susceptible to 
41 



HEART Oi^ WASHINGTON 

be turned against all the lovely girls he 
knew. It was the fashion for young 
men to write love verses and address 
them to their special fair ones. George 
Washington did this and also wrote let- 
ters to male cousins and friends about a 
certain "Lowland Beauty," but no one 
knows with certainty who she was. 

And the love-lines he wrote! Here 
is a sample: 

"Oh, ye gods ! why should my poor resistless 
heart 

Stand to oppose thy might and power? 
At last surrender to Cupid's feather'd dart 

And now lies bleeding every hour 
For her that's pitiless of my grief and woes 

And will not on me pity take; 
He sleeps amongst my most inveterate foes 
And with gladness never wish to wake — " 

And so on and on and on. As this 
seems not to have been sent to any par- 
ticular object of his affection, it is 
thought George took to writing verse 
because all young men, mostly older 
42 



YOUNG STRONG-HEART 

than he, were doing this — as the modem 
boy of fourteen to sixteen goes in for 
collecting stamps till he tires of the fad. 



43 



THE TWO ELDER BROTHERS 

Lord Fairfax encouraged George to 
make a practical use of his knowledge 
of surveying; he doubtless looked down 
on the idleness of the wild and foolish 
young men of Virginia. Of course, 
such an honorable authority as the sixth 
Baron Fairfax soon convinced the older 
brothers that it was quite right and 
proper for George, as a younger son, to 
become a practical surveyor. But the 
yearning mother still opposed it. It 
was a dangerous calling which meant 
work in distant wilds among "squat- 
ters," or random settlers, who looked on 
surveyors as sent by the English pro- 
prietors to take their lands and homes 
from them. Then there were Indians, 
often hostile and treacherous, besides 
44 



TWO ELDER BROTHERS 

swollen rivers, rattlesnakes and wild 
beasts. Above all it would take her 
precious boy away from her for months 
at a time. But Lord Fairfax sent 
George out to survey his own great es- 
tates and paid him handsomely for his 
services. With the Washington lad, 
only sixteen then, went George William 
Fairfax, several years older. The two 
youths had Surveyor Genn with them, 
as guide and manager. 

Though the excursion was beset with 
many difficulties and dangers, the two 
Georges, buoyed up by youthful spirits 
(though George Washington had been 
suffering from a bilious attack), went 
through it with the enthusiasm that 
brings success. The Washington lad 
kept a diary of this surveying expedi- 
tion, making sage comments on the con- 
ditions he found, and recording their ex- 
periences with settlers, Indians and 
others, especially jokes against himself, 
45 



HEART df' WASHINGTON 

— how he shot at two turkeys and missed 
them both. Here is an extract from 
his quaint record of his first surveying 
trip which he called: — 

"A Journal of My Journey over the 
Mountains, Begun Friday, the 11th of 
March, 1747-8." 

"Sunday, March 13th. Rode to his 
lordship's quarters. About four miles 
higher up the river Shenandoah we went 
through most beautiful groves of sugar 
trees, and spent the best part of the day 
in admiring the trees and the richness 
of the land. . . . 

"15th. Worked hard till night, and 
then returned. After supper we were 
lighted into a room, and I, not being as 
good a woodsman as the rest, stripped 
myself very orderly, and went into the 
bed, as they called it, when to my sur- 
prise I found it to be nothing but a lit- 
46 



TWO ELDER BROTHERS 

tie straw matted together without sheet 
or anything else, but only one thread- 
bare blanket, with double its weight of 
vermin, such as lice, fleas, &c( !) 

"I was glad to get up (as soon as the 
light was carried from us) and put on 
my clothes and he as my companions 
did. Had we not been very tired, I am 
sure we should not have slept much that 
night." 

There was one experience he did not 
record, probably because the joke was 
not on himself. Surveyor Genn had 
met, during a previous scout or survey, 
an Indian chief named Big Bear, who 
had an awful hand-grasp, and dehghted 
in shaking hands with an unwitting 
"paleface," making the bones crack, and 
grinning with fiendish glee over the 
white man's agony. So Genn warned 
the members of his party against trust- 
ing Big Bear if they should meet him, 
47 



HEART O^WASHINGTON 

George said nothing, but remembered 
a trick he had learned with the Craw- 
ford boys in Fredericksburg. When 
that wily chief presented his sinewy paw 
with the usual Indian greeting, "How?" 
Washington seized it with an innocent 
look, and said "How?" with great cor- 
diality. 

The astonished Indian, caught in 
his own trap, fairly roared with pain, 
and the delighted bystanders, Indians 
as well as white men, danced with joy to 
see "the biter bitten" at last, and writh- 
ing with the very agony he had inflicted 
on others. 

The struggle for the right to earn his 
own living was George Washington's 
first war for independence. This free- 
dom from dependence was sweet to him 
as he returned from his first surveying 
trip, a happy young conqueror of six- 
teen. He had earned from eighteen to 
twenty-four dollars per diem — very 
48 



TWO ELDER BROTHERS 

high wages for that day and generation ! 
The first thing he did was to go with 
George Fairfax to Belvoir and report 
to his distinguished employer. His 
lordship was pleased with everything, 
especially with the lad's "Journal" of 
the excursion. 

The satisfaction of one great landed 
proprietor meant recommendations that 
would bring engagements from others, 
and it was with a hght heart that young 
George Washington went home to tell 
his mother all about it, and have a happy 
romp with the younger children, for 
"bouncing Betty" was enough like her 
big brother George to be a boon com- 
panion. 

The next year, at the age of seven- 
teen, Washington received from Wil- 
ham and Mary College, at WiUiams- 
burg, the colonial capital of Virginia, 
a commission as surveyor of Culpeper 
County. 

49 



HEART 0:^WASHINGTON 

While in the western wilds he wrote 
the following letter to his friend Rich- 
ard Henry Lee: 

"Dear Richard: 

"The receipt of your kind favor of 
the 2nd instant afforded me unspeak- 
able pleasure, as it convinces me that I 
am still in the memory of so worthy a 
friend — a friendship I shall ever be 
proud of increasing. Yours gave me 
the more pleasure, as I received it 
among barbarians and an uncouth set 
of people. 

"Since you received my letter of Oc- 
tober last, I have not slept above three 
or four nights in a bed, but after walk- 
ing a good deal all day, I have lain down 
before the fire upon a little hay, straw, 
fodder or a bearskin, whichever was to 
be had, with man, wife and children, like 
dogs and cats ; and happy is he who gets 
the berth nearest the fire! 
50 



TWO ELDER BROTHERS 

"Nothing could make it pass off tol- 
erably but a good reward. A doubloon 
is my constant gain every day that the 
weather will permit of my going out, 
and sometimes six pistoles. [A doub- 
loon is a double pistole, and a pistole 
was worth about four dollars in mod- 
ern money.] 

"The coldness of the weather will not 
permit of my making a long stay, as the 
lodging is rather too cold for the time 
of the year. I never had my clothes off, 
but have lain and slept in them, except 
the few nights I have been in Freder- 
ickstown." 

The pilgrimages of the seventeen- 
year-old County Surveyor into western 
wilds became fewer and farther be- 
tween, for Lawrence's health seemed to 
be faihng fast, and the invalid yearned 
to have Brother George with him more 
and yet more. It was a beautiful 
51 



HEART df WASHINGTON 

friendship which existed between these 
two, for the younger was 

"Brother, at once, and son.'* 

Lawrence seems to have known that 
he was not long for this world, for, be- 
tween trips in vain search for health, he 
kept planning for the future of his wife 
and baby daughter — and for George, to 
whom he clung as a sick man does to the 
young, well and strong. As a last re- 
sort he decided to spend the winter in 
Barbados, and no one but George would 
he take with him. 

Some time before this Lawrence had 
resigned as an officer in the Virginia 
militia, and recommended that George 
take his place, and the youth was duly 
appointed district adjutant-general, 
ranking major, with a salary, in modern 
money, of seven hundred and fifty dol- 
lars a year. The young major was 
given lessons in handling the broad- 
52 



TWO ELDER BROTHERS 

sword and in fencing by an officer 
named Van Braam, who had been with 
Lawrence in the war, and he pursued 
mihtary studies under Adjutant Muse, 
another officer acquaintance. Young 
Major Washington's duties consisted in 
making tours through several counties, 
and inspecting drills, arms and ac- 
couterments of the Colonial militia. 

But he had to give up surveying and 
militia duties to accompany his brother 
on the voyage in hopeless search of 
health. They sailed on the 28th of Sep- 
tember, 1751, George being nineteen 
and Lawrence thirty-three years of age. 

George kept a diary on this voyage. 
There was little interest beyond the 
daily symptoms of the invahd. On the 
day of their arrival, after a passage of 
five weary weeks, they were entertained 
by the governor of Barbados, and 
George was exposed to smallpox. He 
was ill nearly four weeks, losmg his 
53 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

fresh, youthful complexion, and his skin 
was left pitted. Till his death he bore 
the marks of that governor's hospitality. 

Lawrence had the ups and downs 
common to those in the last stages of 
consumption. He decided to try a 
change at Bermuda, sending George 
home to bring Anne, his wife, to meet 
him on that\ island. But before they 
sailed from Virginia they received word 
not to come, for Lawrence was now 
''hurrying home to his grave." He 
reached Mount Vernon in the spring 
of 1752, and died in July. George, 
though only twenty, was the real exec- 
utor of his brother's will. He did his 
part faithfully and well. 

When he was twenty-one he declined 
to disturb his mother in the possession 
of Ferry Farm, which had been left to 
him by his father, although at that time 
he did not know that another estate 
was soon to be his. Lawrence's little 
54 



TWO ELDER BROTHERS 

daughter died in 1754, and thereupon 
Lawrence's beautiful home passed into 
his brother's possession. Thus at two 
and twenty, George Washington, tall 
and handsome, after manifold struggles 
through boyhood and youth, became the 
wealthy master of Mount Vernon. 



55 



"THE HERO'S HEART" 

Among the interests of the two older 
Washington brothers was that of the 
Ohio Company, of which Lawrence had 
been president. This was an Enghsh 
syndicate holding certain rights along 
the Ohio, now included in the States of 
West Virginia and southeastern Ohio, 
which were encroached upon by the 
French, coming down from Canada and 
settling along that river. The Indians 
occupying the disputed territory took 
sides ; those allying themselves with the 
French were known as "French In- 
dians." 

Robert Dinwiddle, governor of Vir- 
ginia, was also interested in the Ohio 
Company. He appointed the young 
adjutant-general, then only twenty, 
56 



"THE HERO S HEART ' 

special envoy from the English and in- 
structed him to take to the French com- 
mander a "notice to quit" the country. 
Major Washington thought his ap- 
pointment a mistake, for Indians have 
great respect for age, and he felt that 
the French officers, some of whom were 
Indian half-breeds, would laugh to 
scorn a message from Great Britain de- 
livered by "almost a boy." As a mili- 
tary officer it was his "not to reason 
why." It was not fear of losing his life 
that made young Washington hesitate, 
but he was afraid of failing in the at- 
tempt through his own unfitness. 

George was not yet twenty-one at 
that time, and he dreaded the parting 
with his mother on such a dangerous 
errand more than encountering a whole 
village of hostile savages. She ob- 
jected, of course — almost any mother 
would. When his mere personal ambi- 
tion was involved, he had given up a 
57 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

bright future for her sake, but now he 
was an officer of the government, and 
his country called on him to risk his life. 
It would be weakness to yield to her en- 
treaties now, so he comforted her the 
best he could and left for Williamsburg. 
On the 30th of October, 1753, the 
young envoy set out on a difficult and 
dangerous mission which was to affect 
the future history of two hemispheres, 
traveling on horseback or on foot, with 
a few scouts and an interpreter. It was 
a journey of hundreds of miles through 
pathless forests, deep with snows, and 
among hostile savages. He held pow- 
wows in Indian lodges, enlisting red 
men as guides and helpers. At an in- 
terview and supper in Venango, he kept 
his head while his French hosts were 
maudlin with drink and revealed the 
secret orders of their superiors. He 
had to go on, almost to Lake Erie, to 
deliver the governor's letter to Cheva- 
58 



^*THE HERO'S HEART" 

lier de St. Pierre, the highest officer 
south of Quebec. 

While waiting for the Chevalier's 
reply, the French tried to bribe his 
friendly Indians with liquor, guns and 
ammunition; but the boy diplomat, by 
tact, prowess and patience, brought 
away his allies in triumph, after having 
made secret drafts of the French fortifi- 
cations. In his reply the Chevalier re- 
fused to vacate the lands occupied by 
the French. 

On the return trip the strange em- 
bassy reached Venango in canoes, after 
several adventures. There the party 
separated. Major Washington sending 
the rest home on the horses, while he 
and Gist, a special scout, started out a 
shorter way on foot, through woods and 
deep snow, as he was anxious to deliver 
the message to Governor Dinwiddle 
without delay. No trails could be seen, 
so they engaged an Indian guide. He 
59 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

proved to be hostile, and Washington 
caught him in the act of aiming a gun 
at him. The young white man dis- 
armed the Indian. Gist said there was 
no way but to kill the treacherous sav- 
age, for, if allowed to escape, he would 
follow them with others of his tribe 
and murder them. Reasonable as this 
seemed, George took the chance of los- 
ing his own life rather than shoot, in 
cold blood, a defenceless enemy. 

They let the Indian go, to his great 
astonishment, and hurried blindly for- 
ward through deep drifts, though 
Major Washington was lame and suf- 
fering from blistered feet. They dared 
not encamp and rest that night, as they 
believed to do so would mean sure death. 
By morning they reached the Allegheny 
river, after a hideous night of sleepless 
apprehension. In his journal Wash- 
ington wrote: 

"There was no way for getting over 
60 



"THE HERO'S HEART" 

but on a raft; which we set about with 
one poor hatchet. Before we were half 
way over we were jammed in the ice. 
The rapidity of the stream jerked me 
out into ten feet of water." 

This was far more disagreeable and 
dangerous than the crossing of the Del- 
aware twenty-three years later. The 
young man caught the end of a log 
and scrambled back on the raft. The 
weather was below zero and a high wind 
was blowing. 

The two fugitives reached a bleak 
island in the darkness and built a fire 
where Washington tried to dry his 
frozen clothing. Gist, long hardened 
to exposure, found in the morning that 
his fingers and toes were frozen. The 
next day they escaped to the opposite 
shore, where they were safe from pur- 
suing Indians. They learned after- 
ward that they must have had a narrow 
escape, as the pursuing savages, disap- 
61 



HEART OJ^WASHINGTON 

pointed of their prey, killed and scalped 
a helpless family living near. 

Major Washington purchased two 
horses and the two men, after more 
hardships and escapes, reached Wil- 
liamsburg on the 16th of January, 1754, 
where the brave young messenger de- 
livered Chevalier de St. Pierre's polite 
but unsatisfactory reply to Governor 
Dinwiddle, 



62 



"DRUM-BEAT— HEART-BEAT" 

The young ambassador had early de- 
veloped that habit of putting things 
down, which goes far toward success in 
many walks of life. His boyish diary, 
describing his adventures in western 
wilds, was published, and found a wide 
and eager reading, not only among the 
American colonies, but in Great Britain 
and on the continent of Europe by mon- 
archs, ministries, diplomats and people 
of the work-a-day world. In recogni- 
tion of his services. Major Washington 
was promoted to second in command in 
Virginia, with the rank of colonel. 

Governor Dinwiddie began at once, 

by writing letters and sending special 

messengers, to arouse the colonies to 

unite and fight those enemies of all, the 

63 



HEART Of WASHINGTON 

French and their Indian alHes. As- 
suming the initiative he also sent Cap- 
tain Trent and a band of workmen to 
build a fort at the fork of the Ohio, des- 
ignated by Washington to be the stra- 
tegic point of all that region. 

Trent failed to guard the fortifica- 
tions, and one day, in his absence with 
troops, hundreds of French and Indians 
landed in canoes and swarmed up the 
bank. The few men working on the 
unfinished fort were helpless. As they 
offered no resistance, they were allowed 
to leave unmolested, taking their build- 
ing tools with them. 

They found their way to Colonel 
Washington, who had been sent after 
Trent as soon as a company could be 
organized for the purpose, and was ap- 
proaching to protect and secure the 
fortress. It was a deep chagrin to the 
young ofiicer to lose this point of van- 
tage to his country through stupid neg- 
64 



*^DRUM-BEAT— HEART-BEAT" 

lect. Of course, it was useless now to 
advance to the forks of the Ohio, where 
the French were already completing a 
larger work, which they named Fort 
Duquesne. 

Gist, the scout who had acted as guide 
on his expedition through this region 
the year before, came to report that for- 
eign soldiers' tracks had been seen in 
the neighborhood. Then the Indian 
chief known as the Half- King, who had 
been one of the motley embassy the year 
before, and who was approaching to join 
Washington again, sent word that a 
French scouting party of fifty men had 
been tracked to a secluded glen in the 
woods. 

Setting out at dead of night from 
Great Meadows, with about fifty sol- 
diers, including Indian guides, Wash- 
ington led his men, single file, grop- 
ing, stumbling, jostling one another, 
through a pouring rain, till they sur- 
65 



HEART O:^ WASHINGTON 

rounded the hidden French camp where 
even the sentry was asleep beside the 
sputtering fire. 

The French camp "woke to hear the 
sentry shriek" and stumbled about, 
grabbing for their guns. By the flick- 
ering firelight they saw the tall young 
leader standing in the foreground 
against the inky blackness, and heard 
him cry, "Fire!" 

Although bullets whistled around 
him. Colonel Washington was not hit. 
In fifteen minutes the French had sur- 
rendered; their leader, Jumonville, had 
been slain with nine of his men. Only 
one of Washington's men was killed, 
and two or three wounded. The Vir- 
ginia colonel courteously offered the two 
officers among the French prisoners all 
the dry clothing he had, though he him- 
self was drenched to the skin. 

This was Washington's first battle. 
In a letter to his brother Jack he wrote 
66 



^'DRUM-BEAT— HEART-BEAT" 

exultingly, because he had learned that 
real danger could not make him afraid : 

"I have heard the bullets whistle, 
and, believe me, there is something 
charming in the sound." 

When this remark was reported to 
George the Second of England, the 
king replied: 

"He would not say so if he had been 
used to hear many." 

The French tried to make it appear 
that Jumonville and his men were on 
a peaceful expedition, and had been 
treacherously murdered in the dark by 
Washington and his cowardly crew. 

At Great Meadows he built a low 
log-enclosure which they named Fort 
Necessity. Meanwhile Colonel Fry, 
first in command, had died on his way 
thither. So young Washington was 
now head of the Virginia forces. Re- 
cruits formerly under Fry soon reached 
Fort Necessity with a regiment of In- 
67 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

dependents from South Carolina. 
They called themselves Independents 
because they were paid by the crown, 
and better dressed, fed and drilled, than 
the hastily gathered company from Vir- 
ginia. Their captain refused to take 
orders from Colonel Washington. 
The men from South Carolina would 
not work in building roads or the fort. 
They said they were neither diggers nor 
woodsmen, but soldiers. 

Colonel Washington bore these trials 
with all the patience at his command. 
He could not endure to see his faithful 
soldiers work while the "independent" 
loafers merely looked on or jeered at 
those who were working, so he ordered 
the Virginia troops to go forward fell- 
ing trees and cutting roads, while the 
Carolina men remained at ease near the 
unfinished fort. When the Virginians 
had advanced twelve miles, their leader 
learned that a large body of French 
68 



**DRUM-BEAT— HEART-BEAT" 

were coming down the river under com- 
mand of Coulon de Villiers, brother of 
Jumonville, vowing dire vengeance 
upon "the cruel Washington" and his 
murderous gang. The Virginia colonel 
sent for the Independents' officers, and 
after a council of war, decided to return 
to the fort. Now with the enemy less 
than a day off, the Independents worked 
on the fortification they had been too 
proud to finish, as if it were their last 
day on earth — as it proved to be for 
many of them ! 

On the morning of the 3d of July, 
1754, the French and Indians sur- 
rounded their log enclosure. The In- 
dependents, ready to fight now that the 
enemy was in sight, must have regretted 
their foohshness. As in the previous 
battle, there was a heavy downpour of 
rain. Washington ordered them within 
the roofless fortress, where they were 
huddled together in a miserable plight. 
69 



HEART oF WASHINGTON 

The rain wet their ammunition so that 
they could not discharge their muskets. 
They stood knee deep in mud and 
water, and had nothing to eat but raw 
beef. 

The Half- King, seeing that it was to 
be a losing fight, refused to take part, 
and withdrew his braves to a safe dis- 
tance. In excuse for this he announced 
that he was disgusted with the idleness 
of the Independents, and that Wash- 
ington was to blame for allowing it. 
He added this insult to his injury: 
"The French are cowards and the Eng- 
lish fools!" 

Finally, greatly outnumbered and 
unable to fight, Colonel Washington 
accepted a call to surrender. He had 
occasion here to regret that he had not 
learned French. He sent Van Braam 
to confer with de Villiers. That 
Dutchman returned with terms of cap- 
itulation for Colonel Washington to 
70 



**DRUM-BEAT— HEART-BEAT" 

sign. Depending on this interpreter's 
translation, he signed a document which 
stated that he had assassinated Jumon- 
viUe! 

According to this agreement, the 
young commander was permitted to 
march out of Fort Necessity with drums 
beating and colors flying — on July 4th, 
1754 — ^twenty-two years before the 
Declaration of Independence. 



n 



BRADDOCK'S AIDE 

After "snatchinig victory from the 
jaws of defeat," the young commander- 
in-chief returned to Mount Vernon — 
now his own — a mihtary hero, and an 
object of increased admiration among 
the fair sex. His friend Fairfax wrote 
him: 

"If a Saturday night's rest cannot be 
sufficient to enable your coming hither 
to-morrow, the ladies will try to get 
horses to equip our chair, or attempt 
their strength on foot [four miles] to 
salute you, so desirous are they with lov- 
ing speed to have an ocular demonstra- 
tion of your being the same identical 
gent ( !) that lately departed to defend 
his country's cause." 

The modest young master of Mount 
72 



BRADDOCK'S AIDE 

Vernon had opened the Seven Years' 
War in Europe. The Virginia House 
of Burgesses saw no reason for re- 
proaching him, handicapped as he had 
been, but thanked him for his bravery 
in both battles, and voted a pistole 
(about four dollars) apiece to his sol- 
diers. 

Govenor Dinwiddle began, in a stu- 
pid, exasperating way, to complicate 
the opening conflict. The young com- 
mander became involved in bickerings 
and other annoyances on account of the 
governor's favorites. Meanwhile Eng- 
land sent General Braddock over to 
fight the French and their Indian aUies. 
Washington was invited to be one of his 
aides. The young Colonel did his best 
to get the arrogant English general to 
see the folly of fighting Indians and 
half-breeds by Continental methods. 
Braddock replied loftily that such sav- 
age soldiers might defeat American 
73 



HEART Of^WASHINGTON 

troops but they would take to their heels 
at the sight of the red uniform of the 
British regulars. 

From Wills's Creek Colonel Wash- 
ington was sent to Williamsburg to 
bring four thousand pounds (about 
$20,000) to pay the troops. An escort 
of eight men was detailed to convoy the 
iron chest containing the gold. Of 
their courage he wrote : 

"Eight men were two days assem- 
bling, but I believe they would not have 
been more than as many seconds dis- 
persing if I had been attacked." 

The Virginian was almost ill over the 
slow progress of Braddock and his 
army. After his return with the treas- 
ure chest he wrote in confidence, to his 
brother : 

"I found that instead of pushing on 

with vigor, without regarding a little 

rough road, they were halting to level 

every molehill, and to erect bridges over 

74. 



BRADDOCK'S AIDE 



every brook, by which means we were 
four days in getting twelve miles." 

This "creeping paralysis" seems to 
have affected the stalwart colonel's 
nerves. He lapsed into a raging fever 
and had to be carted through the forest 
in a lumbering wagon. He was finally 
left behind with a physician, too ill to 
be moved farther. The fear lest he 
should fail to be "in at the death" after 
all, made him slip out, more dead than 
alive, and ride furiously after the army. 
He caught up just in time to dash into 
the thickest of a battle. He had lost 
his hat, and his pallor and hollow, fever- 
lighted eyes made his face look like a 
frantic death's-head. 

The Indians, superstitious of all 
strange manifestations, and especially 
of insanity, were afraid of him. He rode 
like a demon, reckless of whistling bul- 
lets and flying tomahawks. In spite of 
everything, Braddock formed his troops 
75 



HEART OF Washington 

in platoons, where they were crowded 
together, without elbow room, their 
bright red uniforms a shining mark for 
French and savages who surrounded 
them and shot them down like so many 
manikins. 

Dazed by the devilish din all around 
them, the Enghsh regulars stood a few 
moments, only to see their comrades 
falling on every side — ^then they broke 
and ran in all directions, shot down, or 
tomahawked and scalped, without mak- 
ing the least resistance. There were 
only two hundred French soldiers and 
six hundred Indians, but they killed 
seven hundred English regulars, of 
whom eighty-six were officers. Brad- 
dock himself was mortally wounded, 
and died cursing his stupid obstinacy in 
not following his young aide's advice. 
The only real fighting done that day 
was by those objects of British sneers, 
the "raw American militia." 
76 



BRADDOCK'S AIDE 

So many of the officers were killed or 
wounded that as soon as Braddock fell 
the Virginia colonel took command and 
allowed the men to fight Indian fashion. 
He dashed hither and thither, with such 
utter abandon that the Indians thought 
he was charmed by magic so that they 
could not hit him. He had two horses 
shot under him and four bullets through 
his coat. He cursed the frantic regu- 
lars and struck them with the flat of 
his sword, but it was useless ; they were 
too frightened to fight with "devils 
straight from hell." 

Of their conduct Washington wrote : 

*'The dastardly behavior of the regu- 
lar troops (so-called) exposed those 
who were inclined to do their duty to 
almost certain death. I tremble at the 
consequence this defeat may have upon 
our back settlers." 

The next day Colonel Washington, 
reared in the Church of England, read 
77 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

the burial service over the hoUowed-out 
log in which the body of poor, pompous, 
insulting General Braddock was laid to 
rest. Then they beat a retreat to Fort 
Cumberland, lately erected on Wills's 
creek, from which place he wrote to his 
best beloved brother to correct a report 
of his death and burial, which sounds a 
little hke Mark Twain's comment that 
the report of his own death was "grossly 
exaggerated I" 



78 



"HEART OF MY HEART" 

Late in July, 1755, Colonel Washing- 
ton returned home, weak from fever, 
and smarting after undeserved defeat. 
But he was not allowed to rest. In the 
first place the wealthy young Virginia 
planter had added to his military laurels 
and had become a hero of the first order. 
He soon received an appointment as 
commander-in-chief of the Virginia 
forces. After Braddock's defeat, In- 
dians went on the warpath all along 
the Ohio frontier, and appalling stories 
came to the eastern shore that the sav- 
ages were "killing and destroying all be- 
fore them," and fleeing neighbors re- 
ported that when they left their homes 
they heard "constant firing and the 
shrieks of the unhappy men murdered." 
79 



HEART OI^ASHINGTON 

Military affairs in the colony were in 
a turmoil. No one knew what to do. 
Young Washington looked on in con- 
sternation, feeling his inability to stem 
the tide. His friends sought to encour- 
age him. Colonel Fairfax wrote: 
"Your good health and future are the 
toast of every table." And the 
Speaker of the House of Burgesses sent 
him this word: 

"Our hopes, dear George, are all 
fixed on you." 

But "dear George" had to have an- 
other reckoning with his mother. The 
four bullets which had passed through 
his coat pierced her mother-heart. 
Again she entreated him to give up run- 
ning into constant danger. He wrote 
in reply: 

"If it is in my power to avoid going 
to the Ohio again, I shall, but if the com- 
mand is pressed upon me by the general 
voice of the country, and offered upon 
80 



"HEART OF MY HEART" 

such terms as cannot be objected 
against, it would reflect dishonor upon 
me to refuse it." 

It is at least interesting to conjecture 
what might have become of the United 
States of America if George Washing- 
ton had listened again to his mother's 
appeals to stay in safety on his Vir- 
ginia plantation. 

The foohsh, crotchety, Scotch gov- 
ernor, Dinwiddle, mixed matters mili- 
tary very badly indeed, and subjected 
Colonel Washington to annoyances 
which he was not disposed to brook. 
So, to settle the question of the relative 
rank of colonial and crown officers, 
the handsome young colonel and his 
suite rode five hundred miles to Boston 
town to have the matter decided by Gen- 
eral Shirley, commander-in-chief of all 
British forces in America. 

In New York, Colonel Washington 
was taken to call on Mary Philipse, at 
81 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

that day the wealthiest heiress in 
America. A tall handsome man of 
twenty-three, courteous, dignified, care- 
ful in his dress, and really devoted to the 
fair sex, he was a highly eligible candi- 
date for matrimonial honors. It is said 
that he proposed marriage to Miss Phil- 
ipse, but that is not likely. 

Though he was much sought after as 
a man of wealth and a hero, his natural 
delicacy and reserve would prevent him 
from proposing marriage to a compara- 
tive stranger, however attractive, and 
especially to a young heiress, as he 
might be the more suspected of enter- 
taining mercenary motives. 

The Virginia colonel was honored 
and feasted in Boston where his fame 
had preceded him. Governor Shir- 
ley's decision was in favor of him and 
of all colonial officers, making their rank 
equal to those of the same grade ap- 
pointed by the crown. So Colonel 
82 



'HEART OF MY HEART" 

Washington returned successful not 
only for himself but for his brother offi- 
cers also. 

While he was absent there was an 
Indian uprising on the western bound- 
ary of his command. After returning 
to Mount Vernon the commander-in- 
chief, hurrying to the frontier, was met 
by a company of men and women driven 
from their homes by the savages. Of 
these he wrote in terms reflecting rare 
credit upon the martyr spirit of a mili- 
tary officer of twenty-six: 

''I am too little acquainted with pa- 
thetic language to attempt a description 
of the people's distress but I would be 
a willing offering to savage fury and 
die by inches to save a people." 

While riding to and fro between Wil- 
liamsburg and Winchester, his frontier 
headquarters, he met at her estate 
known as "White House," Mrs. Martha 
Dandridge Custis, the young widow of 
83 



HEART O? WASHINGTON 

a wealthy planter and merchant. The 
courtship progressed as rapidly as pos- 
sible in those decorous days, so that 
when Washington was called to lead an 
expedition to regain possession of Fort 
Duquesne, at the forks of the Ohio, he 
penned this hasty note to his betrothed : 

"We have begun our march to the 
Ohio. A courier is starting for Wil- 
liamsburg, and I embrace this oppor- 
tunity to send a few words to one whose 
life is now inseparable from mine. 

"Since that happy hour when we 
made our pledges to each other, my 
thoughts have been continually going 
to you as another self. That an All- 
powerful Providence may keep us both 
in safety is the prayer of your ever faith- 
ful and affectionate friend, 

"G" Washington." 

They found Fort Duquesne deserted 
and destroyed by fire. Planting the 
84 



"HEART OF MY HEART" 

Union Jack on the blackened ruins, 
Washington returned home to prepare 
for his marriage. The wedding took 
place in an English chapel near Mrs. 
Custis's estate. The bride was known 
as the wealthiest and most beautiful 
woman in all Virginia. She was dressed 
with great elegance, in silk, satin and 
rare jewels. The groom was dressed in 
blue and silver with scarlet trimmings, 
with gold buckles at his knees and on his 
shoes. He rode beside her coach-and- 
six on horseback, and the wedding party 
made a brilliant and stately cavalcade 
as it climbed the hill under the tall elms 
of Mount Vernon to the veranda over- 
looking the broad Potomac. 



85 



BENEDICT AND PLANTER 

Colonel Washington now thought his 
fighting days were over. For sixteen 
years he was the happy henedict and 
Virginia planter, looking after the de- 
tails of his vast estates and taking care 
of his wife's great interests. He was 
soon elected to the House of Burgesses, 
one of the first representative bodies in 
America. On taking his seat in that 
august body, the Speaker took occasion 
to thank him for his splendid services to 
his country. Colonel Washington rose 
to respond, and stood, blushing and 
stammering, until the Speaker relieved 
him by saying: 

"Sit down, Mr. Washington. Your 
modesty equals your valor, and that sur- 
86 



BENEDICT AND PLANTER 

passes the power of any language I pos- 
sess." 

Letters are still preserved in which 
Washington writes for sugar plums for 
little Martha, or "Patsy" Custis, who 
died while a young girl. Papa Wash- 
ington, who never had any children of 
his own, was a kind, indulgent step- 
father. He was also a good friend and 
neighbor. He looked after everything 
himself, usually riding a round of fif- 
teen miles a day, doing his duty faith- 
fully as overseer and manager. Be- 
sides all these and his social duties, for 
he was now a bright and shining light 
among the "First Families of Virginia," 
he looked after the interests of the sol- 
diers who had been under his command. 

One man, a major who had been re- 
proved for cowardice at Great Mea- 
dows, thought he had been omitted from 
the distribution of land given by the 
87 



HEART OF Washington 

government to all who had participated 
in that campaign, and wrote Washing- 
ton an insulting letter about it. The 
Colonel's reply was vigorous : 

"Your impertinent letter was deliv- 
ered to me yesterday. As I am not 
accustomed to receive such from any 
man, nor would have taken such lan- 
guage from you personally without let- 
ting you feel some marks of my resent- 
ment, I would advise you to be cautious 
in writing me a second of the same 
tenor. But for your stupidity and sot- 
tishness you might have known, by at- 
tending to a public gazette, that you had 
your full quantity of ten thousand acres 
of land allotted you. But suppose you 
had fallen short, do you think your 
superlative merit entitles you to a 
greater indulgence than others? 

"All my concern is that I ever en- 
gaged in behalf of so ungrateful a fel- 
low as you are." 

88 



CONGRESS AND COMMANDER 

Not content with insulting the colo- 
nies with her stupid arrogance, Eng- 
land began to lay her plans to force 
them to pay a share of the enormous ex- 
pense of the Seven Years' War abroad, 
— besides that involved in defending her 
own borders. 

The passing of the Stamp Act lashed 
the troubled waters of America into 
such fury that it was repealed to save 
the Ship of State. Then minor taxes 
were levied — on paint, glass, etc. — ^then 
on tea. It was not the amount but the 
principle of the thing that the colonists 
minded — ^the slavery of taxation with- 
out having any say in the matter, as if 
the colonists were mere children or 
slaves. 

Patrick Henry, a Virginia neighbor, 
89 



HEART Of^WASHINGTON 

sounded the war cry, "Give me liberty 
or give me death," which spread over all 
the colonies as rapidly as a prairie fire. 

Beneath his imputed coldness, the 
love of liberty burned at white heat in 
Washington's passionate heart. Usu- 
ally a silent man in public delibera- 
tions, he arose in a convention assem- 
bled at Williamsburg to take action 
upon the English attempt to starve re- 
bellious Boston into submission. His 
utterance on this occasion was pro- 
nounced "the most eloquent speech ever 
made." With a diffidence almost pain- 
ful he stammered : 

"I will raise a thousand men, subsist 
them at my own expense, and march 
them to the relief of Boston." 

Colonel Washington was elected a 
delegate to the first Continental Con- 
gress at Philadelphia. He attended the 
meetings, a silent spectator and adviser, 
tiptoeing about in his Colonel's uniform, 
90 



CONGR ESS AND COMMANDER 

but he was pointed out as the famous 
Virginia planter who had done heroic 
things for his country, and reputed to 
be one of the richest men in America. 

While listening mechanically to John 
Adams's speech one memorable day, not 
dreaming of its import, he was startled 
by hearing his own name, followed by 
the motion that he be made Commander- 
in-chief of the Continental forces. In 
a sudden accession of shyness he jumped 
up and rushed out of the room. In 
spite of his modesty he was unani- 
mously elected. 

As General Washington, the Com- 
mander-in-chief, he did not have to ap- 
pease his mother, but there was his wife, 
Martha. His first thought was of her, 
and sitting down immediately after 
leaving the Congress he wrote at once 
to break the painful news to her: 

*'You may beheve me, my dear Patsy, 
when I assure you that, so far from 
91 



HEART OF Washington 

seeking this appointment, I have used 
every endeavor in my power to avoid it, 
not only from my unwilHngness to part 
with you and the family, but from a 
consciousness of its being a trust too 
great for my capacity, and that I should 
enjoy more real happiness in one month 
with you at home than I have the most 
distant prospect of finding abroad, if 
my stay were to be seven times seven 
years. 

"I shall feel no pain from the toil and 
dangers of the campaign; my unhappi- 
ness will flov/ from the uneasiness I 
know you will feel from being left 
alone." 

Two days after Washington's ap- 
pointment in Philadelphia, the battle of 
Bunker Hill was fought near Boston. 
On his way there, escorted by a troop of 
horsemen, he met a messenger bring- 
ing the news to Congress. 
92 



CONGRESS AND COMMANDER 

"Did our provincials stand the fire of 
the regular troops?" he asked anxiously. 

"That they did, and held their own 
fire in reserve until the enemy was 
within eight rods." 

"Then the liberties of the country are 
safe!" he exclaimed. 

General Washington took command 
on Cambridge Common. One writing 
of that time describes him as follows : 

"A gallant soldier he was. Under 
the Cambridge elm that warm July 
morning, he was what we call an impos- 
ing figure. He was tall, stalwart and 
erect, with thick brown hair drawn back 
into a queue, as all gentlemen then wore 
it, with a rosy face and a clear, bright 
eye — a strong, a healthy, a splendid- 
looking man in his uniform of blue and 
buff, an epaulet on each shoulder; and 
in his three-cornered hat, the cockade of 
liberty." 

Washington's command was a mot- 
93 



HEART OF^ASHINGTON 

ley mob of everything but soldiers, as 
in the children's button charm, which 
begins: "Rich man, poor man, beggar 
man, thief, doctor, lawyer, merchant, 
chief, tinker, tailor" — and farmer, in- 
stead of "soldier, sailor" — and on 
through the childish lingo. As to the 
officers, the commander-in-chief himself 
wrote that they were often mere politi- 
cians who let their men do as they 
pleased. 

One day that summer he found a Vir- 
ginia and a Marblehead company in 
something like a riot. An eye-witness 
relates : 

"The General threw the bridle of his 
horse into his servant's hands, and, rush- 
ing into the thickest of the fight, seized 
two tall, brawny riflemen by the throats, 
keeping them at arms' length, talking 
to, and shaking them." 

After getting the men in order and 
the siege fortifications under way, 
94 



CONGRESS AND COMMANDER 

Washington discovered, to his great 
consternation, that there had been a 
terrible oversight and his soldiers had 
only nine rounds of ammunition apiece. 

This was appalling! What if the 
British should sally forth from Boston 
and attack them? Without daring to 
tell a soul of it, he secretly detached men 
to scour the country for gunpowder, 
even sending a fast ship to Bermuda to 
seize a supply he had heard was stored 
there. Meanwhile before the army he 
kept up a game of bluff in which he was 
an adept. 

While suffering this fearful appre- 
hension. General Washington happened 
to see from an upper window "Old 
Put," as bluff General Putnam was 
called, approaching headquarters with a 
big, fat woman he had taken prisoner 
as a spy, astride his horse in front of 
him. 

General Putnam's serious face, while 
95 



HEART dP WASHINGTON 

bringing such a prisoner of war, ap- 
pealed to Washington's sense of humor 
so that he laughed, as he often did, till 
the tears ran down his cheeks. Yet 
when "Old Put" arrived and presented 
the creature, the superior officer's face 
was a model of gravity. This incident 
served to relieve the terrible tension of 
those long weeks of suspense. 

On the first of January, 1776, Wash- 
ington raised, over his headquarters in 
Cambridge, the flag of the United 
Colonies, consisting of thirteen red and 
white stripes for the thirteen colonies 
and the British double cross in the can- 
ton, showing that the people were then 
fighting for their rights as subjects of 
the crown, and not for separation from 
the Mother Country. At that time the 
king's speech was being promulgated in 
Boston containing insulting threats for 
the rebels in arms against their sover- 
eign. Of this Washington wrote: 
96 



CONGRESS AND COMMANDER 

"Before the proclamation came to 
hand we had hoisted the Union flag in 
comphment to the United Colonies. 
But behold ! It was received in Boston 
as a token of the deep impression the 
speech had made upon us, and as a sig- 
nal of submission. 

"By this time, I presume they begin 
to think it strange we have not made a 
formal surrender of our lives !" 

Those ragged regiments under the 
patient masterfulness of their com- 
mander-in-chief slowly tightened the 
coil around Boston, and when they had 
acquired powder enough, they bom- 
barded it and drove the British out of 
the city. The British leaders were at a 
theater witnessing a burlesque on "the 
cowardice of the Yankees," when the 
cannonading began. 

Edward Everett Hale, "the first citi- 
zen of Boston" a century later, told a 
story of Washington, after his entry 
97 



HEART OlTWASHINGTON 

into that city, and while staying at a 
tavern which General Howe had made 
his headquarters. Always fond of 
children, he made a pet of the inn-keep- 
er's daughter. Holding the httle girl 
on his knee, General Washington asked 
her: 

"Now that you have seen the soldiers 
on both sides, which do you like the 
best?" 

The child, who, like himself, could not 
tell a lie, replied : 

"I like the *red-coats' best." 

This answer made the General laugh 
and he said, indulgently: 

"Yes, my dear, the red-coats do look 
the best, but it takes the ragged boys to 
do the fighting." 

After the evacuation of Boston, Gen- 
eral Washington wrote to "dear Jack:" 

"The want of arms and powder is not 
peculiar to Virginia. This country, of 
98 



CONGRESS AND COMMANDER 

which doubtless you have heard large 
and flattering accounts, is more defi- 
cient in both than you can conceive and 
I have been obliged to submit to all the 
insults of the enemy's cannon for want 
of powder, keeping what little we had 
for pistol distance. 

*'I beheve I may with truth aifirm 
that no man, perhaps, ever commanded 
under more difficult circumstances. To 
enumerate the circumstances would fill 
a volume. ... 

"As I am now nearly at my eighth 
page, I think it time to conclude; espe- 
cially as I set out with prefacing the lit- 
tle time I had for friendly correspond- 
ences. I shall only add, therefore, my 
affectionate regards to my sister and 
the children, and compliments to 
friends ; and that I am, with every senti- 
ment of true affection, your loving 
brother and faithful friend, 

"George." 
99 



THE FLAG AND THE DECLARATION 

Washington was not like an Indian, 
who likes to remain and gorge or gloat 
over his great victory. His work in 
New England was done. He lost no 
time in sending his army to the next 
scene of conflict, New York. 

Even here he had to take command 
of a "badly armed, undisciplined, dis- 
orderly rabble." Most of the troops 
there were an aggregation of farmers 
and militia, armed only with the guns 
they happened to have in their homes. 

Soon after arriving in New York, 
General Washington was invited by 
John Hancock, still president of the 
Continental Congress, to come to Phil- 
adelphia and consult with the leaders 
100 



THE DECLARATION 



about breaking with and separating 
from the Mother Country. 

It was during this advisory visit that 
Washington was appointed chairman 
of a secret committee to devise a stand- 
ard to take the place of the flag of the 
United Colonies. It was appropriate 
that this should be assigned to him, but 
as he was not then a member of the 
Congress, no record was made of the 
matter. 

The story of Betsy Ross, the little 
Quaker upholsterer and seamstress, has 
been confirmed. General Washington 
called at her little home with Robert 
Morris and George Ross to order the 
first flag made in case the Congress 
should pass a resolution making thir- 
teen States of the thirteen Colonies. 
The design he showed the buxom widow 
contained thirteen six-pointed white 
stars in a circle on a blue field, to take 
the place of the British union of crosses. 
101 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

The stripes remained the same as in the 
United Colonies flag. Mrs. Ross's ac- 
count of the changing of the design, 
from the six-pointed British star to a 
five-pointed star, which was original and 
easier to cut, must have been correct. 

It is sometimes stated that Washing- 
ton modified his own family coat-of- 
arms for the Flag of the United States. 
The resemblance is too far-fetched, es- 
pecially considering that he had six- 
pointed stars in his design at first. The 
colonies were revolting against a mon- 
archy, with all its heraldry and heredi- 
tary titles, and Washington was not the 
kind of man to foist his own family crest 
upon a new nation. 

Also this flag was to be the first ban- 
ner of the people — the standard of 
liberty — and citizens were to be free to 
arrange the stars as they chose, in token 
of popular liberties. Washington ex- 
pressed his own beautiful sentiment con- 
102 



THE DECLARATION 

cerning the Flag, which in itself should 
prove that he had no thought of his 
own family coat-of -arms : 

"We take the star from Heaven, the 
red from our Mother Country, separat- 
ing it by white stripes, thus showing that 
we have separated from her, and the 
white stripes shall go down to posterity 
representing liberty." 

General Washington returned to his 
headquarters at New York, June 6th, 
so he had no part in the historic scenes 
of the Congress when debating, passing, 
and signing the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence; but he did more than any 
man there to make the United States of 
America a free and independent nation. 

While he was in New York waiting 
for action, a plot to kidnap him was 
frustrated, and Thomas Hickey, the 
treacherous member of his guard, was 
tried by court martial and hanged in the 
presence of twenty thousand spectators 
103 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

for his "most barbarous and infernal 
plot." 

After the proclamation of the Dec- 
laration of Independence in the leading 
cities, the English king and his ministry 
began to see what a mistake they had 
made, and Lord Howe was authorized 
to open negotiations for some kind of a 
compromise. Not wishing to recognize 
Washington as anything but the leader 
of a mob of rebels, they addressed a 
letter to "Mr." George Washington, 
This the General's secretary would not 
receive. Then an officer appeared with 
a communication for "George Wash- 
ington, Esq., etc., etc." Though the 
officer was received with scrupulous 
courtesy, the letter was not accepted. 

"But the 'etc., etc' implies every- 
thing'' urged the official messenger. 

"It may also mean anything!" said 
General Washington, with a hearty 
laugh. 

104 



THE DECLARATION 

A gentleman at headquarters relates 
an example of the unfailing courtesy 
and good humor Washington mani- 
fested, whenever he could, toward his 
chief enemy. 

"One day a fine sporting dog, which 
was evidently lost, came to ask for some 
dinner. On its collar were the words. 
General Howe, It was the British 
commander's dog! It was sent back 
under a flag of truce, with the following 
note : 

" 'General Washington to General 
Howe, — does himself the pleasure to re- 
turn him a dog, which accidentally fell 
into his hands, and by the inscription 
on the collar, appears to belong to Gen- 
eral Howe.' 

^'General Howe replied by a warm 
letter of thanks to this act of courtesy 
on the part of his enemy, our general." 

In spite of these little courtesies 
Washington wanted it distinctly under- 
105 



HEART of WASHINGTON 

stood that the pardoning power of Lord 
Howe was too late and it was utterly 
useless to extend it, as the provincials 
were doing no wrong in fighting for 
their inalienable rights. 

Those were "the times that try men s 
souls," and especially was the great soul 
of George Washington severely tested. 
Of his sore trials as commander-in-chief 
old John Adams, "the Father of the 
Revolution," said at this time : 

"It requires more serenity of temper, 
a deeper understanding, and more 
courage than fell to the lot of Marlbor- 
ough, to ride in this whirlwind." 



106 



DEFEATS AND RETREATS 

The American army, if it could be 
called such, had to defend too much ter- 
ritory against the superior and trained 
forces of the enemy. Defeat and cap- 
ture seemed inevitable. But the troops 
fought heroically, and Washington, the 
subtle strategist, planned such masterly 
retreats that they proved, in the long 
run, to be victories. 

The morning after the battle of Long 
Island the British General "put out his 
hand to take the nest of rebels," as he 
called it, "but the birds had flown." 
There had seemed to be no escape. 
Washington and his brave little army 
were surrounded and certain to be taken 
prisoners in the morning. That would 
end the war in favor of the British. 
107 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

But a thick fog came up during the 
late August night. The General, al- 
ways alert, seized the opportunity. 
Setting a company of Massachusetts 
fishermen and sailors to work, he got to- 
gether all the river craft (rendered use- 
less for other purposes by the fog) and 
effected their escape to the main land 
before the enemy suspected what was 
going on. Soon after this stroke of 
genius he wrote of his policy: 

"It would be presumption to draw 
our young troops into open ground 
against their superiors both in number 
and discipline, and I have never spared 
the spade and pick-axe." 

This was the secret of Washington's 
success. He knew how to use the 
means at hand. He had learned that 
often a spade is better than a bayonet, 
and a pick-axe more useful than a 
sword. 

In September there was an encounter 
108 



DEFEATS AND RETREATS 

with the British at Kip's Bay. Two or 
three of his regiments, panic-stricken, 
broke and started to run, but Washing- 
ton, white with wrath, headed them off 
with pistols, threatening to shoot them, 
and striking them with the flat of his 
sword — so by frightening them more 
than all the British, he drove them back 
into their intrenchments. 

There was a short, sharp, decisive 
skirmish at White Plains and another 
retreat. Then came the loss of Fort 
Washington with twenty-six hundred 
men and all the munitions of war. This 
was a catastrophe which meant irre- 
trievable ruin to the cause of freedom in 
America. 

Yet even this shattering of his hopes 
did not hurt his father-heart hke seeing 
his beloved men wounded and dying. 
Before entering the hopeless battle of 
Long Island he had clenched teeth and 
fists, as he muttered to Heaven, "Good 
109 



HEART OI^WASHINGTON 

God, what brave fellows I must this day- 
lose!" So here, helpless, on the oppo- 
site side of the Hudson, he stood watch- 
ing the fortunes of war through a spy- 
glass, crying out and sobbing as he saw 
the British cutting and slashing his dear 
soldiers with their bayonets until, tear- 
blinded and heartsick, he could see no 
more. Yet the Father of His Country 
is known to millions of his children as 
cold, distant, and pompous like a statue 
of stone or ice! 



110 



f TURNING THE TIDE 

Heroic manhood is but one form of 
that eternal verity which, "crushed to 
earth, will rise again." Truth, in this 
case, had to get up and run, for Wash- 
ington is next seen flying across New 
Jersey at the head of the remnant of an 
army described as a "hopeless gang of 
tramps." They were running away, 
hoping against hope that they might 
"live to fight another day." Sometimes 
their pursuers were so close on their 
heels that they were entering a village 
at one side while Washington and his 
"ragged rebels" were leaving it at the 
other. Once they gained time by cross- 
ing the river and destroying all the 
boats, so that the British could not fol- 
low. 

Ill 



HEART oF WASHINGTON 

One night a little girl in a house where 
Washington had found refuge begged 
to see the strange man harbored there 
for the night. The General smiled 
sadly at her curiosity, and said: 

"Well, my dear, you see a very tired 
man in a very dirty shirt !" 

As soon as he gained a little breathing 
space ahead of the British, Washington 
began to plan a side attack which might 
turn the tables and retrieve the fortunes 
of the Revolution. Staking all on a 
desperate throw, he sent a brief message, 
two days ahead, to Colonel Cadwalader, 
informing him that he was going to sur- 
prise and capture some hired Hessians 
by doing what seemed to be impossible 
— crossing the Delaware through a mass 
of great cakes of floating ice. 

This was Washington's order: 

"Christmas Day at night, one hour 
before day, is the time fixed for the at- 
tempt on Trenton. For Heaven's sake, 
112 



TURNING THE TIDE 

keep this to yourself, as the discovery of 
it may prove fatal to us." 

It was a desperately brilliant stroke. 
With '^Victory or Death!" for the 
countersign, they crossed the river in 
a blinding storm. The surprise was 
complete, the battle was won and the 
tide of the Revolution was turned. Al- 
most the only losses on the American 
side were those of men frozen to death 
on that bitter cold night. One of the 
prisoners taken at Trenton recorded of 
Washington that "His eyes have scarce 
any fire." How could they after his 
sleepless, haunting experiences, leading 
a tattered army which the enemy tracked 
by the blood spots left upon the snow 
by the soldiers' feet? No wonder those 
deep, serene, blue-gray eyes had lost 
their fire — yet the fervent fires in Wash- 
ington's heart could not be extinguished. 

The victory at Trenton was oppor- 
tune. It had a tonic effect, not only 
113 



HEART 0:^WASHINGTON 

on the commander-in-chief, but also on 
the men whose time would be up on the 
first of January, and who must be paid, 
especially if they were to be induced to 
reenlist. Coward Congress was giving 
up the struggle as hopeless. Not only 
was Washington fighting the British 
single-handed, but he was suffering 
more from the Congress than from the 
enemy. He had been paying the men 
out of his private fortune, and the 
Congress was more than willing he 
should. 

But Washington, wealthy as he was, 
had no more money at command. In a 
new hope, born of the despair he had 
just escaped, he wrote to Robert Mor- 
ris, known as "the financier of the Rev- 
olution," that the success of the cause 
depended on his having fifty thousand 
dollars by New Year's Day. 

That staunch patriot arose early the 
next morning, went out and raised the 
114 



TURNIlSrG THE TIDE 

money on his private note and his sacred 
honor, sent it to Washington to save the 
day and the country, and promised his 
further support, personal as well as 
official. 

There was joy in Washington's heart, 
and fire in his eye, when the men were 
paid off that memorable New Year's 
Day. Now there was hope for Liberty. 
The British general, Cornwallis, had 
followed and surrounded him at a bend 
in the Delaware, still filled with blocks 
of ice. Here another time the British 
retired at night sure of their prey. 
Cornwallis told some of his officers that 
they would "bag the old fox in the morn- 
ing." 

But "the old fox" was not to be 
caught napping. While Cornwallis 
was asleep he crept out and around the 
foe, beating part of the British force at 
Princeton, January 3, 1777, before the 
astounded British fox-hunter came up 
115 



HEART oF WASHINGTON 

— then Washington was ready to fight 
him. The General alarmed his men 
and officers by dashing along in front 
within thirty yards of the British. One 
of his colonels rushed into the battle 
smoke after his chief. When the action 
was over, finding the General still un- 
hurt, he burst into tears and waved his 
hat, shouting: "Thank God your Ex- 
cellency is safe!" Washington, always 
serene in the greatest danger, waved his 
hat in returning the loyal salute, and 
seizing the devoted officer by the hand 
he exclaimed: 

"Away, my dear colonel, and bring 
up the troops — the day is our own!" 



116 



IN THE VALLEY 

The Congress, still wrangling and 
back-biting, failed to support the army 
in the field. In spite of his stout heart, 
even Robert Morris's resources were 
limited. On his way to fight Lord 
Howe, Washington called at Morris's 
office in Philadelphia. A clerk who 
was present told this story of their in- 
terview : 

" 'Can you help us?' pleaded the com- 
mander-in-chief in a voice husky with 
emotion. 

"Morris shook his head sadly, saying: 
*I have used up my own means and 
credit. I am deeply grieved to admit 
that I can do nothing now— nothing!' 

"General Washington, covering his 
face with his large hands, so that the 
117 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

fingers touched his forehead, burst into 
an abandon of weeping, and as he sat 
there sobbing, the tears trickled through 
his fingers and dropped down his wrists. 
But he soon gained his normal compos- 
ure, arose and went out without a word. 
Two days later, September 11, 1777, 
Washington met Lord Howe at 
Brandywine and was defeated." 

The losing battle of Germantown fol- 
lowed on October 4th. Washington 
wrote of it to "Brother Jack" : 

"The anxiety you have been under 
on account of this army, I can easily 
conceive. Would to God there had 
been less cause for it! 

"But for a thick fog, which rendered 
it so infinitely dark at times as not to 
distinguish friend from foe at the dis- 
tance of thirty yards, we should, I be- 
lieve, have made a glorious day of it. 
But Providence or some unaccountable 
118 



IN THE VALLEY 



something designed it otherwise; for 
after we had driven the enemy a mile or 
two, after they were in the utmost con- 
fusion and flying before us in most 
places, after we were upon the point 
(as it appeared to everybody) of grasp- 
ing a complete victory, our own troops 
took fright and fled in precipitation and 
disorder. . . . 

"Our distress on account of clothing 
is great, and in a little time it must be 
very sensibly felt, unless some expedi- 
ent can be hit upon to obtain them. 

"P. S. I had scarce finished this let- 
ter, when by express from the State of 
New York I received the important and 
glorious news — of Burgoyne's surren- 
der at Saratoga. 

*'I most devoutly congratulate you, 
my country and every well-wisher to the 
cause, on this signal stroke of provi- 
dence. 

*'Yrs. as before" [George] 
119 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

Their "great distress on account of 
clothing" was "very sensibly felt" dur- 
ing the "long and dreary winter" that 
followed at Valley Forge. Howe and 
the British were feasting and reveling 
in Philadelphia, a score of miles away, 
while many of Washington's brave sol- 
diers were dying of exposure and star- 
vation. 

Not enough were the physical hard- 
ships of that awful period, but a dispo- 
sition of humankind was manifest, in 
Congress and elsewhere, to "kick him 
while he's down!" 

Washington's noble generosity and 
self-sacrificing patriotism weighed lit- 
tle in the balance against the envy of his 
bitter enemies ; he was also "hurt in the 
house of his friends." Conspiracy was 
at its height when his fortunes were at 
their lowest. Jealous, ungrateful op- 
position to Washington reached its 
high-water mark in that hideous com- 
120 



IN THE VALLEY 



bination of enmity and treachery known 
as the Conway Cabal. 

While his hands were tied they lashed 
his quivering flesh. The purpose of the 
conspiracy was, as Washington himself 
said, "that General Gates was to be ex- 
alted on the ruin of my reputation and 
influence." 

During those heart-rending hours the 
General, to the last a devout Church- 
man, sought refuge in prayer. Canon 
Sutherland has described him then: 

"A show 
To the disdainful,, heaven-blinded foe, 
Unlauded, unsupported, disobeyed, 
Thwarted, maligned, conspired against, betrayed. 
Yet nothing could unheart him. Wouldst thou 

know 
His secret? There, in that thicket on the snow 
Washington knelt before his God and prayed." 

The cabal ended in an unexpected 

way. General Conway was shot in a 

duel, and thinking he had not long to 

live, made this supposed deathbed con- 

121 



HEART of WASHINGTON 

f ession in the form of a letter to Wash- 
ington: 

'Thiladelphia, 23d July, 1778. 
"Sir: 

"I find myself just able to hold a pen 
during a few minutes, and take the op- 
portunity of expressing my sincere 
grief for having done, written, or said 
anything disagreeable to your Excel- 
lency. My career will soon be over, 
therefore justice and truth prompt me 
to declare my last sentiments. You are 
in my eyes the great and good man. 
May you long enjoy the love, venera- 
tion and esteem of these States, whose 
liberties you have asserted by your vir- 
tues. 

"I am, with the greatest respect, &c., 
"Thomas Conway." 



122 



"WHOM CAN WE TRUST NOW?" 

After Valley Forge came the battle 
of Monmouth and the treachery of 
General Charles Lee, in whose honesty 
the commander-in-chief had reposed 
great faith. Lee had been a British 
prisoner and was lately released. Evi- 
dently he had bargained to deliver 
Washington and his army into the 
hands of the enemy. This battle 
seemed to suit his purpose. Instead of 
advancing to the attack, as commanded, 
he began to retreat. 

The Rev. Dr. A. B. Hyde, late Vice- 
Chancellor of Denver University, Colo- 
rado, told the writer of his grandfather, 
who was with General Washington 
from Cambridge to Yorktown: 
123 



HEART of^ WASHINGTON 

"At the battle of Monmouth Grand- 
father Hinckley was hardly ten yards 
from the spot where Washington, com- 
ing upon the scene, met Lee retreating. 

" 'General Lee, you have disobeyed 
my orders!' came loud and clear from 
Washington's lips. 

" 'By God, I have not!' yelled Lee. 

'''By God, you have! Go to the 
rear,' thundered Washington, with face 
ablaze. Reforming with furious en- 
ergy, he rescued and regained the day. 
Calm histories soften the incident. I 
give you what Grandfather Hinckley 
said he heard and saw." 

Though General Lee was disgraced, 
there were many, as is usual in such in- 
stances, who believed him innocent of 
any criminal intent, though there was 
no doubt of it in Washington's mind. 
Eighty years afterward a document was 
discovered which proved that Lee was 
124 



"WHOM CAN WE TRUST?" 

really trying to deliver Washington's 
command into the power of the enemy 
for a large bribe in British money and 
preferment. 

The winter which followed in en- 
campment near Morristown, New Jer- 
sey, exceeded the horrors, in some re- 
spects, of that at Valley Forge. 

Lafayette returned to France to join 
forces with the French friends of lib- 
erty and helped Franklin and his 
colleagues in raising "sinews of war" 
for the struggle in the United 
States. 

In the meantime Congress, petty and 
jealous, was afraid General Washing- 
ton might use his too-great popularity 
to make himself military dictator, if not 
emperor of the United States. It was 
objected by that legislative body: 

"That his influence was already too 
great ; that even his virtues afforded mo- 
tives for alarm; that the enthusiasm of 
125 



HEART of' WASHINGTON 

the army joined to the kind of dictator- 
ship already confided to him, put Con- 
gress and the United States at his 
mercy; that it was not expedient to ex- 
pose a man of the highest virtue to such 
temptations." 

Though his bitterest enemies in the 
Conway cabal had been discomfited, 
there were still many in and out of Con- 
gress who were hostile to Washington. 
Not all the people were patriots even 
in those good old days. Greed, graft, 
selfishness, and venality prevailed then, 
and ghouls stood like buzzards, ready 
to feed upon the apparently dying 
cause. 

Then came the treason of Arnold, 
who had served his country with signal 
bravery. 

This stung the heart of his friend, 

the commander-in-chief. When the 

dispatch was handed to him it is said 

that he read it and clasped his hands 

126 



"WHOM CAN WE TRUST?" 

above his head as he exclaimed, in an- 
guish of spirit: 

"Whom can we trust now?" 
But the emotion passed quickly, and 
Washington was again the stern, in- 
flexible general, ordering and planning 
to capture the traitor and bring his 
British confederate, the brilliant and at- 
tractive young Andre, to justice. Ar- 
nold made his escape to the British and 
Andre was executed, as the British had 
hanged young Nathan Hale, an Ameri- 
can patriot and spy. Yet sentimental- 
ists made a gi^eat hue and cry over 
Washington's hardness of heart in not 
sparing young Andre, and a so-called 
poetess wrote some vitriolic verses be- 
ginning, "Remorseless Washington!" 



127 



"GONE TO CATCH CORNWALLIS" 

Gates, the general favored by Con- 
gress, was sent south to stop the British 
ravages and outrages there. He failed 
signally, as Washington knew he would. 
Meanwhile, glad tidings came from La- 
fayette that France was to send soldiers, 
ships, and treasure in aid of the cause of 
liberty. But the promised French aid 
was a long time on the way. Washing- 
ton, chained to the neighborhood of 
New York to watch Sir Henry Clinton, 
was kept in constant torture, hearing of 
the hngering fiasco in the South. On 
learning that his nephew, then in charge 
of Mount Vernon, had offered the Brit- 
ish soldiers and sailors comfort and re- 
freshment to save that beautiful estate, 
he wrote: 

128 



"TO CATCH CQRNWALLIS" 

"Dear Lund: It would have been 
a less painful circumstance to me to 
have heard that, in consequence of your 
non-compliance with their request, they 
had burnt my house and laid the plan- 
tation in ruins." 

At last word came that the French 
fleet would soon be in Virginia waters, 
and Washington stole away from his 
post near New York. He was well on 
his way to Virginia before Clinton 
missed him. As he and his men passed 
quickly through Philadelphia, the peo- 
ple cheered and shouted: "Long live 
Washington! He has gone to catch 
Cornwallis in his mouse-trap !" 

The French met and cooperated with 
Washington by land and sea, and Corn- 
walhs was trapped in Yorktown. After 
a long bombardment Cornwallis sur- 
rendered, in October, 1781. The Brit- 
ish troops marched out to the tune of 
"The World Turned Upside Down." 
129 



HEART (# WASHINGTON 

At the time of the capitulation Wash- 
ington announced to the American 
troops : 

"My brave fellows, let no sense of 
satisfaction for the triumphs you have 
gained induce you to insult your fallen 
enemy. Let no shouting, no clamorous 
huzzahing increase their mortification. 
It is sufficient for us that we witness 
their humiliation. Posterity will huz- 
zah for us." 

Men are learning in these last days 
to love their enemies and how to "do 
unto others," but George Washington 
was a Knight of the Great Heart in the 
eighteenth century. Not only did he 
refuse to humiliate Cornwallis by re- 
quiring him to surrender his sword, but 
he gave a dinner in honor of his British 
prisoner. In courtesy to his distin- 
guished guest this toast had to be pro- 
posed, "The King of England," which 
Washington did with becoming gravity 
130 



'^TO CATCH CORNWALLIS" 

— adding a sentiment of his own, in an 
undertone, "May he stay there!" with 
such a mischievous expression that even 
Cornwallis laughed, and became his 
captor's friend for the rest of his life. 

Through the thirteen States, the 
watchmen on their rounds, after swift 
messengers arrived from Yorktown, 
making their usual midnight announce- 
ment in the frosty air: "Twelve 
o'clock and all is well," added "and 
Cornwallis is taken!" 

Among those who received the signal 
tidings about the man he had loved, en- 
couraged and aided in earlier days, was 
Lord Fairfax, who remained a staunch 
Tory to the end. The feeble old man 
was so bitterly out of sympathy with his 
former protege that, when he heard of 
the surrender of the British, he called 
to his colored body-servant: 

"Come, Joe, carry me to bed, for it is 
high time for me to die!" 
131 



"THE BITTER END" 

General Washington had to turn 
away from the rejoicings of victory and 
make haste to the bedside of his step- 
son, Jack Custis, who was dying of con- 
sumption. Beside the deathbed he 
adopted Jack's two little children, 
Nelly Custis, afterward "the daughter 
of the nation," and George Washington 
Parke Custis, who has left valuable 
recollections of his foster-father's life. 

American independence was tacitly 
won, but peace was delayed by the slow 
means of locomotion of that day, and 
tedious forms which had to be gone 
through. Yet there were triumphant 
celebrations in all the centers of the new 
nation. A grand ball was given in 
General Washington's honor at Fred- 
132 



"THE BITTER END" 

ericksburg, where his old mother lived, 
having moved into town from Ferry 
Farm. He had provided a comfortable 
home for her, as she was too exacting to 
live with any of her children. She took 
a querulous pride in having it under- 
stood that whatever others might think 
of her illustrious son, he was no better 
than he ought to be, so she could not 
quite approve of him. Also, that he 
did not provide liberally out of his great 
wealth for his mother! This annoyed 
Washington exceedingly and was the 
subject of several exasperated letters, 
couched in stately terms, beginning 
with "Honour'd Madam," and closing 
with "Your affectionate son, George." 

In one of them he gently explained 
to her why he could not have her come 
to live at Mount Vernon, where she 
would have to change her dress often — 
which she hated — and where his wife, 
Martha, would brook no domineering. 
133 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

The dear old lady could never quite for- 
give her son George for refusing to al- 
low her to manage his whole life for 
him. 

Perhaps the adulation Washington 
appreciated most was that of Congress, 
which had been harder to conquer than 
the British. He had the satisfaction of 
seeing that august and obdurate body at 
his feet. 

But the end was not yet. Washing- 
ton had to go to Newburg. The Brit- 
ish were still in New York and his dis- 
contented army was too weak to drive 
them out. Peace was under slow and 
painful negotiation and there was still 
no assurance that the articles would ever 
be signed. The British commissioners 
were foolish and arrogant. It was their 
nature. The king was almost insane 
and his hatred of Americans became 
monomania. Dr. Franklin and his col- 
leagues in Europe had to exercise cour- 
134 



"THE BITTER END" 

age, patience, and strategy similar to 
those practised by the commander-in- 
chief for six years in America. It took 
more than a year after Yorktown to 
conclude the peace. During this time 
"the temper of the army" was, as Wash- 
ington described it, "very much soured." 
They lived on poor fare and did not re- 
ceive their pay, even in depreciated con- 
tinental money, of which the value had 
fallen so low as to originate the con- 
temptuous phrase, "Not worth a conti- 
nental!" They were finally paid out of 
money sent from France. 

Afterward, realizing how much 
Washington had done for the country 
and how weak and ineffectual the gov- 
ernment seemed to be, the representa- 
tive of a large number of soldiers and 
citizens sent him a letter proposing to 
make him dictator, or even emperor, 
if he would accept the honor. The re- 
publican experiment had not yet been 
135 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

tried successfully anywhere and people 
could not help believing that any other 
form of government than a monarchy 
must end in failure. 

Washington, instead of feeling flat- 
tered, wrote an indignant reply, in part 
as follows : 

"I am much at a loss to conceive what 
part of my conduct could have given 
encouragement to an address which 
seems to me big with the greatest mis- 
chiefs that can befall my country. You 
could not have found a person to whom 
your schemes are more disagreeable." 

At last the tidings of the signing of 
the treaty came, and the war was actu- 
ally at an end. The next day, April 
19, 1783, was the eighth anniversary of 
the first battle of the war. A solemn 
celebration was held, at which a short 
hymn, entitled "Independence," was 
sung, of which this was the ringing re- 
frain : 

136 



THE BITTER END" 



"No king but God! 
No king but God!'* 

Still there were many details for the 
commander-in-chief to arrange before 
leaving the army, to live quietly at home 
— a boon he had not known for eight 
years. During all that time of peril 
and privation he had sighed constantly 
for Mount Vernon, wife and home, 
peace and happiness — to him an earthly 
paradise. 

It was in Fraunces' tavern, near 
Whitehall Ferry, New York City, that 
General Washington took final leave of 
his companions in arms and partners in 
distress. Choking with emotion, he 
could not speak at first. Controlling 
his voice by a supreme effort, he be- 
gan: 

"With a heart full of love and grati- 
tude I take my leave of you, most de- 
voutly wishing that your latter days 
may be as prosperous and happy as 
137 



HEART of^ WASHINGTON 

your former ones have been glorious and 
honorable." 

Then there was a suffocating pause 
before he could go on : 

"I cannot come to each of you to take 
my leave, but shall be obliged to you if 
each will come and take me by the 
hand." 

His adopted son describes this scene: 
"Knox, who stood nearest to him, 
turned and grasped his hand, and, while 
the tears flowed down the cheeks of 
each, the commander-in-chief kissed 
him. This he did to each of his officers 
while tears and sobs stifled utterance." 

A spectator tells of his departiu*e 
from Whitehall slip : 

"There he got into a barge. As he 
rode away he stood up and lifted his 
hat. All of us uncovered and remained 
thus till he passed from sight to be seen 
no more by many of those who gazed 
sadly after his retreating form." 
138 



'THE BITTER END" 

The next step was to resign his com- 
mission before Congress, then in session 
at Annapolis, and render his account to 
the government. This was for moneys 
advanced by him in those immortal eight 
years to facilitate the movements of the 
army, over and above the expenses he 
had pledged beforehand in that * 'elo- 
quent" speech. It amounted to nearly 
one hundred thousand dollars ! Great- 
ness is not to be measured in money 
terms. Washington's bill seems con- 
temptibly small from a merely financial 
point of view, but his credits in the reck- 
oning were items of sublime import to 
American patriotism. He gave his 
own services to his country also, "with- 
out money and without price." 

A great Englishman afterward 
showed the striking contrast between 
George, about-to-be crowned king of 
England, and that greater George, the 
uncrowned emperor in America: 
139 



HEART (f^ WASHINGTON 

"Which was the most splendid spec- 
tacle ever witnessed, the opening feast 
of Prince George in London, or the 
resignation of Washington? Which is 
the most noble character for after ages 
to admire — yon fribble dancing in laces 
and spangles, or yonder hero who 
sheathes his sword after a life of spot- 
less honor, a purity tinreproached, a 
courage indomitable, and a consummate 
victory?" 

But sweeter than all this and far 
more to his credit, was the reply of 
Congress to his valedictory address. 
It was a noble testimonial — all that the 
retiring general could have wished, and 
was delivered by a former bitter enemy 
— one of the Conway cabal! 

As for the General who had been so 
unjustly attacked while he needed all 
this appreciation — ^he had a devoted, 
forgiving heart, and "an angel might 
have envied his feelings." 
140 



LAUNCHING HIS OWN SHIP 

It was a happy home-coming for 
Washington, that Christmas Eve of 
1783. It was his first chance to "sit 
down" in eight long years of hardship, 
exposure, hatred, and calumny "under 
his own vine and fig-tree." He had 
looked forward to this with almost hope- 
less longing through all the dark hours 
of the Revolution. 

Jaick's children, Washington and 
Nelly Custis, were small enough to re- 
mind him of his first home-coming as a 
yDung benedict, twenty- four years be- 
fore. He had the greatest reason to be 
happy. He had made and saved his 
country, and forced even those who had 
hated him to admit it. Although Von 
Moltke, himself a master, has called 
Washington one of the world's greatest 
141 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

strategists, it was not by his battles that 
he won the Revolution. It was by what 
he was and what he did during the lin- 
gering intervals while, hampered by 
mutiny, tortured by calumny, stabbed 
in the back by a dozen Brutuses, he kept 
on planning, working, hoping, praying. 
Thrice armed by the justice of his quar- 
rel, he went on "in the teeth of clench'd 
antagonisms to follow out the noblest 
till he die." He was ready to die and 
expected to, but he won. Relieved now 
of public cares and responsibilities, he 
was once more a private citizen in his 
own home. This alone made him as 
happy as a man just out of prison. 

As an illustrious follower of the plow, 
he became head of the Order of the Cin- 
cinnati, and Mount Vernon became a 
Mecca for the world, the home of "the 
Cincinnatus of the West." 

After years of mismanagement, his 
own liberality, and the natural depre- 
142 



LAUNCHING HIS OWN SHIP 

elation due to the long war, his for- 
tune was shattered, and Washington 
found his estate badly in debt. Though 
he died the second richest man in Amer- 
ica, he was not rich at the end of the 
Revolution. But he addressed himself 
to retrieve his dissipated wealth with 
the same determination that had set 
him to work besieging Boston and bom- 
barding Yorktown. 

Ordinary problems and duties were a 
pleasure to him. He rode a round of 
fifteen miles a day superintending his 
Mount Vernon estate. He had a won- 
derful head for details, whether in order- 
ing his own clothes or his wife's, or a 
spinet or sugar plums for the children. 
He wrote long letters every day and 
copied them by hand. He even wrote 
formal letters for his wife, who was not 
a highly educated woman, and she 
copied them faithfully, his bad spelling 
and all! 

143 



HEART df" WASHINGTON 

He was land poor — owning vast 
tracts of country in different States, 
some of them discovered in his young 
surveying years. He developed these 
resources, selling thousands of acres 
here and there to pay debts on the home 
plantation. So carefully did he look 
after the different departments of work 
on his estates that it was said the brand 
of George Washington's mill on a flour 
barrel was recognized even in England 
as the surest mark of excellence. 

As there was no inn nearer than 
Alexandria, the Washingtons had to en- 
tertain as many guests as an ordinary 
country hotel. They were often im- 
posed upon, but they had rather suf- 
fer than be found failing in hospitality. 
Representatives of foreign potentates 
came to see "the Sage of Mount Ver- 
non." The king of Spain, anxious to 
do honor to Washington, sent him a 
pair of donkeys of high degree. Of 
144 



LAUNCHING HIS OWN SHIP 

this gift the "jack" greatly amused the 
General. He referred to it several times 
in his correspondence — once at least to 
Lafayette. Why should His Majesty 
consider a royal jackass an appropriate 
present to send him? Was there any- 
thing invidious in this? He would 
like to name the solemn little beast for 
the giver, if he dared. He called the 
animal "Royal Gift." 

Yet after all he had done for his 
country, Washington could not be 
spared. The States still had rival 
rights and divided interests. They 
were jealous of one another. He wrote 
to Madison that the separate States 
"were thirteen sovereignties pulling 
against each other." There must be 
some bond to unite all in common inter- 
est — to make them, in fact as well as in 
name, United States. 

After four years of private life and 
happiness, Washington was elected 
145 



HEART O]^ WASHINGTON 

president of a convention to formulate 
a constitution to be adopted by all the 
States. He was loath to leave home, 
but where his country called he always 
went. It was a long, hard task, but he 
did his work well. Washington's word 
was law until the Constitution of the 
United States superseded it. 

To him it was a terrible penalty he 

paid — being elected first President of 

the United States! The election was 

unanimous and he had to accept. He 

was to have been inaugurated on the 

4th of March, 1789, but Congress was 

delayed in getting together to complete 

his formal election, so he could not be 

notified legally until the 16th of April. 

Of this he wrote to General Knox: 

"The delay may be compared to a 

reprieve; for in confidence I tell you 

(in the world it would obtain little 

credit) that my movements to the chair 

of government will be accompanied by 

146 



LAUNCHING HIS OWN SHIP 

feelings not unlike those of a culprit 
who is going to the place of execu- 
tion." 

His mother, in her eighty-second 
year, was known to be dying of cancer. 
Her son, the President-elect, called to 
say good-by. Both knew it was their 
last meeting. The adopted son, Wash- 
ington Custis, gives this rather grandilo- 
quent description of the final leave- 
taking: 

"The President was deeply affected. 
His head rested upon the shoulder of 
his parent, whose aged arm feebly yet 
fondly encircled his neck. That brow, 
on which fame had wreathed the purest 
laurel virtue ever gave to created man, 
relaxed from its awful bearing. That 
look, which could have awed a Roman 
senate in its Fabrician day, was bent in 
filial tenderness upon the time-worn 
features of the aged matron. He 
wept." 

14.7 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

Washington made this sad entry in 
his diary for the 16th of April, 1789: 

"About ten o'clock I bade adieu to 
Mount Vernon, to private life, and to 
domestic felicity, and with a mind op- 
pressed with more anxious and painful 
sensations than I have words to ex- 
press, set out for New York with the 
best disposition to render service to my 
country in obedience to its call, but with 
less hope of answering its expectations." 

The first President-elect's way to 
New York was strewn with verses and 
flowers, and allegoric ceremonies by 
beautiful girls in white. On his arrival 
in New York he was greeted with an 
ovation. His inauguration was still 
delayed to determine certain formali- 
ties — what his title should be, and so on. 
A number of authorities thought the 
President should be referred to as 
"High Mightiness," like a king's "Maj- 
esty." But better sense prevailed. 
148 



LAUNCHING HIS OWN SHIP 

Everything about the repubhcan form 
of government was new and strange. 

Washington took the oath of office 
on the 30th of April, 1789, on the bal- 
cony of Federal Hall, corner of Wall 
and Nassau streets. Then the judge 
who administered the oath raised his 
hand and announced him to the waiting 
crowd in the street below. A flag was 
run up over the cupola of the building, 
bells were rung, cannon boomed, and 
the people shouted: 

"Long live George Washington, 
President of the United States !" 

There was much disagreement as to 
the proper forms and etiquet for the 
President and his wife. Many thought 
royal "drawing rooms" should be held. 
Others went to the opposite extreme. 
There were many then, as now, who 
criticized whatever was decided upon. 
President Washington gained the repu- 
tation of being grave, cold, distant, and 
149 



HEART (ft WASHINGTON 

formal. Much of this was due to diffi- 
dence, and more to bad dentistry. He 
suffered constantly with toothache, and 
sometimes appeared at public functions 
with his face so badly swollen that one 
eye was closed. After he had his teeth 
extracted and an artificial plate made, 
it fitted him so badly that it fell down 
whenever he laughed. This, in addition 
to his sufferings, must have discouraged 
his native mirthfulness. 

The President formed a cabinet of 
the greatest men of his day. Jefferson 
was Secretary of State, and Hamilton, 
Secretary of the Treasury. They were 
men of opposite temperaments, and 
though each was greatest in his own 
line, they were inordinately jealous of 
each other, and kept the good President 
in hot water all the time. 

Then President Washington was 
taken with a desperate illness — a viru- 
lent attack of anthrax — and had to sub- 
150 



LAUNCHING HIS OWN SHIP 

mit to a critical surgical operation. 
His life was despaired of. One day he 
asked the doctor if he was going to die. 
"Do not flatter me with vain hopes," he 
said serenely, "I am not afraid to die. 
I can bear the worst." The physician 
expressed only a hope that his distin- 
guished patient might recover. The 
President replied cheerfully: "Whether 
to-night or twenty years hence, makes 
no difference. I know I am in the 
hands of a good Providence." 

While his condition was most critical 
his mother died, and they dared not tell 
him till he was safe on the road to re- 
covery. 

Washington's life had always been 
in the open, and he found the confine- 
ment of the presidency exceedingly irk- 
some and detrimental to his health, so 
he spent much time traveling about and 
visiting the States. The reverence and 
esteem in which he was held, and his 
151 



HEART oF WASHINGTON 

diplomacy and popularity, had the ef- 
fect of uniting the different States as 
though he were a living embodiment of 
the Constitution. 

The national capital was removed to 
Philadelphia, then the largest city in 
the United States, and nearer the cen- 
ter of the thirteen States than was New 
York. There were two opposing in- 
fluences at work — one favoring some 
sort of alliance with England, and the 
other sympathizing with the French, 
then in the midst of their hideous 
"Reign of Terror." As the French 
had aided the United States in defeat- 
ing Great Britain and securing inde- 
pendence, many believed the failure of 
the United States to reciprocate was 
ungrateful if not treacherous. "Neu- 
trality is desertion," they said. But 
Washington and his party saw that the 
men who aided America were being 
murdered in the name of liberty by the 
152 



LAUNCHING HIS OWN SHIP 

terrible mobs of the French Revolution. 

During Washington's second term 
the so-called "Jay Treaty" was made 
with England. Many were so enraged 
that John Adams, the Vice-president, 
wrote : 

"Ten thousand people in the streets 
of Philadelphia, day after day, threat- 
ened to drag Washington out of his 
house, and effect a revolution in the 
government, or compel it to declare in 
favor of the French Revolution against 
England." 

Washington was not to be intimi- 
dated. He was true to what he be- 
lieved to be right, without the slightest 
wavering. The world and history have 
long since agreed that the first Presi- 
dent was right. The only thing that 
seemed to disturb his serenity was hav- 
ing his orders disobeyed or being un- 
justly attacked in the newspapers. 
When accused of trying to make him- 
153 



HEART ^F WASHINGTON 

self king, President Washington flew 
into a violent rage and Jefferson re- 
ported him to have said "that he had 
rather be in his grave than in his pres- 
ent situation; that he had rather be on 
his farm than to be made Emperor of 
the World; that he could see in this 
nothing but an impudent design to in- 
sult him." 

In spite of his calm exterior, Wash- 
ington was nervous and sensitive to 
criticism. He complained once that 
"every act of my administration is tor- 
tured in such exaggerated and indecent 
terms as could scarcely be applied to a 
Nero, a notorious defaulter, or even a 
common pickpocket !" 

So he was glad to decide that two 
terms were enough for any President, 
and to prepare his great "Farewell 
Address to the people of the United 
States" who were to know him through 
all time as the Father of his Country. 
154 



LAUNCHING HIS OWN SHIP 

Of his delivery of his farewell before 
both Houses of Congress a spectator 

wrote: 

"Profound silence greeted him as if 
the great assembly desired to hear him 
breathe. Mr. Adams (now President- 
elect) covered his face with both hands. 
Every now and then there was a sup- 
pressed sob. 

"I cannot describe Washington's ap- 
pearance as I felt it— perfectly com- 
posed and self-possessed till the close of 
his address. Then when strong, nerv- 
ous sobs broke loose, when tears cov- 
ered the faces, then the great man was 
shaken. I never took my eyes from his 
face. Large drops came from his eyes. 
He looked as if his heart was with them, 
and would be to the end." 

There was a multitude who could not 

gain admission to hear the address but 

thronged him in the street— not a mob 

this time! This is described by an eye- 

155 



HEART 9F WASHINGTON 

witness: "The crowd followed him to 
his door ; there, turning round, his coun- 
tenance assumed a grave and almost 
melancholy expression, his eyes were 
bathed in tears, his emotions were too 
great for utterance, and only by his 
gestures could he indicate his thanks 
and convey his farewell blessing." 

With these scenes of tenderness in 
mind, the other side of the picture may 
show what that kind old man had to 
endure from a no less source than his 
friend Franklin's grandson, in the 
Aurora newspaper, in the very next 
issue : 

"If there ever was a period for re- 
joicing, this is the moment; every heart 
in unison with the freedom and happi- 
ness of the people ought to beat high 
with exultation that the name of Wash- 
ington from this day ceases to give a 
currency to political iniquity, and to 
legalize corruption. 

156 



LAUNCHING HIS OWN SHIP 

"When a retrospect is taken of 
Washington's administration for eight 
years, it is a subject of the greatest as- 
tonishment that a single individual 
should have cankered the principles of 
republicanism in an enlightened people 
just emerging from the gulf of despot- 
ism, and should have carried his designs 
against the public liberty so far as to 
put in jeopardy its very existence. 
Such, however, are the facts, and with 
these staring us in the face, this day 
ought to be a jubilee in the United 

States." 

And there were thousands who read 
this tirade with pleasure! 



157 



"HOME AGAIN, HOME AGAIN!" 



Although Washington returned to 
private life and was relieved of the cares 
of state, he did not live at ease. He 
worked so hard overseeing the planta- 
tion and kept up such a great volume of 
correspondence that General Harry 
Lee remarked to him: 

"We are amazed, sir, at the vast 
amount of work you get through." 

Washington replied, "I rise at four 
o'clock, and a great deal of my work is 
done while others sleep." 

He was the soul of hospitality and de- 
lighted in surrounding himself with gay 
young people. He was fond of danc- 
ing, often indulging in every set during 
a whole evening. Sometimes, feeling 
that the others were overaw^ed by his 
158 



"HOME AGAIN!'* 



presence, he would forego the pleasure 
of dancing more than the opening min- 
uet, bow formally and leave the room. 
Then he would slip behind an open door 
and watch the young folks through the 
crack, chuckling to himself while think- 
ing of the pleasure he was sharing all 
unknown to them. 

Nelly Custis, his adopted daughter, 
then a young lady, told how eagerly he 
entered into her pranks, playing prac- 
tical jokes with the enthusiasm of a 
Sophomore. One of the last events in 
which he took a great interest was 
Nelly's wedding to his favorite nephew, 
Lawrence Lewis, liis sister Betty's 
son. 

He enjoyed facetious stories. On 
one occasion at dinner, Harry Lee made 
a remark which set Mrs. Washington 
laughing and a parrot perched by her 
began to laugh also. 

"Ah, Lee, you are a funny fellow!" 
159 



HEART^F WASHINGTON 

exclaimed the master of Mount Vernon. 
"See, that bird is laughing at you." 

Once Washington wrote to Tobias 
Lear, his secretary: 

"I am alone at present, and shall be 
glad to see you this evening. Unless 
some one pops in unexpectedly, Mrs. 
Washington and myself will do what I 
believe has not been done within the last 
twenty years by us — ^that is, to sit down 
to dinner hy ourselves. 

*'Your affectionate 

"G. Washington." 

Jeremiah Smith, Chief Justice of 
New Hampshire, visited the Washing- 
tons in 1797. He used to relate with 
great gusto the following incident con- 
cerning Judge Marshall, afterward 
Chief Justice of the United States : 

"Judge Marshall and Judge Wash- 
ington [the General's nephew. Bush- 
rod] were on their way to Mount Vei;- 
160 



HOME AGAIN!" 



non, attended by a servant who had the 
charge of a large portmanteau contain- 
ing their clothes. At their last stop- 
ping place there happened to be a 
Scotch peddler, with a pack of goods 
which resembled their portmanteau. 
The roads were very dusty, and a little 
before reaching the General's, they, 
thinking it hardly respectful to present 
themselves as they were, stopped in 
a neighboring wood to change their 
clothes. The colored man got down the 
portmanteau, and just as they had pre- 
pared themselves for the new garments, 
out flew some fancy soap and other arti- 
cles belonging to the peddler, whose 
goods had been brought on instead of 
their own. They were so struck by the 
consternation of their servant, and the 
ludicrousness of their own position, 
being there naked, that they burst 
into loud and repeated shouts of laugh- 
ter. 

161 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

"Washington, who happened to be 
out upon his grounds near by, heard the 
noise, and came to see what might be 
the occasion of it, when, finding his 
friends in that strange plight, he was so 
overcome with laughter that he actually 
rolled upon the ground!" 

A guest named Watson, who had 
business at Mount Vernon, was urged 
to stay there all night. Half sick with 
a cold, he hesitated, not wishing to re- 
main, at such a disadvantage, under the 
roof of one so highly venerated. After 
going to bed he was astonished to see a 
stately figure in a long nightgown ad- 
vancing slowly toward the bed, bringing 
him a bowl of herb tea. It was Wash- 
ington himself. 

The General often wrote letters until 
dark, answering all sorts of demands 
upon his time and courtesy — even read- 
ing a tedious manuscript to please a 
strange young lady who wished to know 
162 



"HOME AGAIN!" 



what he thought of it. As a "free 
horse" he was ridden almost to death. 

During John Adams's presidency 
preparations were made for removing 
the nation's capital farther south, and a 
site on the Potomac was selected. At 
first it was known as the Federal City. 
The last interest which occupied the at- 
tention of Washington was the building 
of the ''President's Palace," as he called 
the Executive Mansion. General 
Washington rode over from Mount 
Vernon almost daily to superintend the 
work, as if he were an architect's fore- 
man. It was a labor of love. No 
bridegroom could have been more inter- 
ested in the construction of his future 
home than Washington was in the house 
designed to become the home of the na- 
tion. 

There was a Scotchman, Davie 
Burns, living in a cottage between the 
site for "the palace" and the Potomac, 
163 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

and the stone for the building had to be 
hauled from a special wharf right across 
Burns's farm. The fact was that these 
very operations on land formerly owned 
by him made his remaining estate very 
valuable, but the man, ill-natured and 
obstinate, annoyed the workmen and 
hindered the work. 

One day Washington remonstrated 
with Burns for this, reminding him that 
the Federal City and the President's 
Palace were making him a rich man, 
and remarking that, but for the selec- 
tion of his land for this purpose, he 
would have lived out his days there 
"nothing but a poor tobacco planter." 

Davie's Scotch was up in an instant. 
"Aye, mon," said he in great wrath, 
"and what you have been, Meesther 
Washington, if you hadn't merried the 
Weedow Custis with all her niggers? 
You'd be nothing but a land-surveyor 
to-day, and a mighty poor one at thatr 
164 



"HOME AGAIN!" 



In 1798, the last full year of Wash- 
ington's life, trouble seemed to be brew- 
ing with France and the old general 
and ex-President hastened to offer him- 
self and his sword once more to the serv- 
ice of his country, saying in a noble note 
to President John Adams: "I should 
not intrench myself under the cover of 
age." 

Fortunately, because of the wisdom 
he had shown as President, when peo- 
ple insulted him and wanted to mob him 
for it, these military services were not 
needed. A mishap about this time 
proved his physical fitness for such a 
strenuous task. A mettlesome colt, in 
sudden fright, jumped sideways and 
threw him to the ground. The onlook- 
ers feared, from the violence of his fall, 
that the old General was badly hurt if 
not killed outright. No, indeed, not 
he! In spite of his great size and 
weight, that plucky old gentleman 
165 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

jumped up and began brushing off his 
clothes — only expressing his deep dis- 
gust that he had allowed such a trivial 
thing to upset his equilibrium. 

He always retained his passion for 
horses. Gilbert Stuart, who painted a 
number of portraits of Washington, in- 
cluding that by which he is recognized 
to-day, used to say that the only way 
to insure an animated expression on 
that tired old face was to talk to him 
about horses. Washington had led 
such an active, outdoor life that the least 
restraint was irksome to him. Of his 
distaste for the long portrait sittings 
then required, he himself humorously 
wrote: 

"At first I was as restive under the 
operation as a colt is of the saddle. 
The next time I submitted very reluct- 
antly, but with less flouncing. Now, 
no dray-horse moves more readily to his 
thill than I do to the painter's chair!" 
166 



HOME AGAIN!' 



Washington was especially proud of 
"dear Brother Jack's" son Bushrod, 
who became an eminent jurist, and of 
Betty's son, Lawrence Lewis, whose 
marriage to his foster-daughter took 
place at beautiful Mount Vernon on its 
owner's last birthday. He provided 
well for his brother Charles's children. 
His eldest brother, Samuel, proved a 
ne'er-do-well, with a faculty for getting 
married and running into debt to satisfy 
five wives (whom he wedded in rapid 
succession), in addition to his own ex- 
travagances. He took advantage of 
his wealthier brother's tenderness to- 
ward them all, and got loans often when 
it was "very inconvenient" for "dear 
George" to accommodate him. At last, 
when he was imposed upon beyond all 
forbearance, George wrote to Jack: 
"In God's name, how did my brother 
Samuel get himself so enormously into 
debt?" 

167 



HEART (fp WASHINGTON 

After the brothers were dead he took 
kind care of their children, "lending" 
them large amounts of money and giv- 
ing them, sometimes sternly, sometimes 
tenderly, the fatherly counsel they 
sorely needed. Samuel's son Thornton 
followed in his father's footsteps and 
received indulgent sums from "Uncle 
George," who sent two more of Sam- 
uel's sons to college, paying five thou- 
sand dollars — an extravagant amount 
for that day — for their education. 

And Samuel's daughter Harriot! 
She was the bane of her good uncle's 
existence, with her careless, slatternly 
ways. He had her live at Mount Ver- 
non, where she sometimes waxed affec- 
tionate in wheedling him into buying a 
new "pair of stays, shoes, gloves, and a 
hat." 

When his sister Betty appealed for 
a wedding trousseau for this exasperat- 
ing niece, he rephed: "She has no dis- 
168 



HOME AGAIN!" 



position to be careful of her clothes, for 
they are dabbed about in every hole and 
corner, and her best things always 
in use." Then he added, with a shrug 
and a helpless smile, "She costs me 
enough I" 

In his will, Washington forgave quite 
a fortune of delinquencies on the part 
of relatives, near and distant, to whom 
he had been a sort of Santa Claus all 
their natural, and somewhat unnatural, 
lives. 

On the 12th of December, 1799, he 
rode the rounds of his estate, paying no 
heed to a driving storm of snow and 
sleet. Taking cold, he was bled by an 
overseer. It was the worst thing to 
have done, but he gave the order, and 
the man obeyed as he would if he had 
been butchering a steer. Then three 
doctors came and bled him again. One 
of these was his life-long friend Dr. 
Craik, who attended him when, as a gen- 
169 



HEART fTF WASHINGTON 

eral's aide, with a high fever, he broke 
from the hospital tent and rode hke the 
wind into battle against French and 
Indians, saving his men, even after 
Braddock had lost the day. The old 
general was not nearly so ill now as the 
young colonel was then, 

Washington had had so many narrow 
escapes he was now sure he was "in the 
hour and article of death." In his old 
methodical way, he made all the final ar- 
rangements, as if he was going on a 
long-planned journey. To his faithful 
secretary, who was tenderly caring for 
his needs, he said: 

"I am afraid I fatigue you too much. 
— Well, it is a debt we must pay to each 
other, and I hope when you want aid of 
this kind you will find it." 

When old Dr. Craik called, he whis- 
pered, with many gasps: "Doctor, I 
die hard — ^but I am not — afraid to go. — 
I believed — from the — first attack — 
170 



"HOME AGAIN!" 



that I should — not sur — vive it, — ^my 
breath — cannot — last long." 

Later that dear "gentleman of the 
old school" wheezed out his thanks to 
the three physicians who, with the best 
intentions in the world, had bled him to 
death, begging them: 

"Take no more trouble about me. — 
Let me go off quietly — I cannot last 
—long." 

Tobias Lear, the old secretary, has re- 
corded Washington's last words: 

"About ten o'clock [December 14, 
1799] he made several attempts to speak 
to me before he could effect it; at length 
he said: 

"*I am just going. Have me de- 
cently buried; and do not let my body 
be put into the vault in less than three 
days after I am dead.' 

"I bowed assent, for I could not 
speak. He then looked at me again 
and said: 

171 



HEART OF WASHINGTON 

" 'Do you understand me?' 

*'I replied *yes.' 

'' ' 'Tis well/ said he. 

"While we were fixed in silent grief, 
Mrs. Washington (who was sitting at 
the foot of the bed) asked with a firm 
and collected voice, *Is he gone?' 

"I could not speak, but held up my 
hand as a signal that he was no more. 

" * 'Tis well,' said she in the same 
voice. 'All is now over. I shall soon 
follow him. I have no more trials to 
pass through.' " 



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